


The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

by steelneena



Series: Through the Seasons [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 50 First Dates Fusion, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild angst but not much, The 50 First Dates AU, The sappiest shit, Tour guide Molly, big cat researcher Caleb, guys it is way sappier than All That's Ahead and Behind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf has bad luck when it comes to his memory. Caleb Widogast is running from his past, afraid that the friends he's made in the beautiful port city of Nicodranas are tying him down, but still finds himself unwilling to give them up. When Molly sees Caleb for the first time at a local tea shop, he can't get him out of his head...well, that is until he wakes up the next morning as if the day previous had never ever happened.Again. And again. And again, much to Caleb's surprise.The 50 First Dates AU





	1. Prologue: Mollymauk Tealeaf

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my amazing Beta, Sarah, aka senor_sparklefingers. You're the best.

Memory is a funny thing. The dictionary defines it as both “the power and process of reproducing or recalling what has been learned and retained, especially through associative mechanisms”, as well as “the store of things learned and retained from an organism’s activity or experience as evidenced by modification of structure of behaviour or by recall and recognition.”

Then, there is computer memory. RAM, or random access memory, “a type of computer memory that can be accessed randomly; that is, any byte of memory can be accessed without touching the preceding bytes”. Computer memory, of course, can be corrupted. Data goes missing, files won’t open, information is lost forever to the black abyss of the matrix, and, sometimes, that random access stops working, files that shouldn’t have become cross dependent on one another are suddenly fused.

The human memory isn’t so different. Dementia, amnesia of all sorts, including retrograde, Korsakoff’s syndrome, Dyscalculia, Hyperthymestic syndrome…the list goes on. All of these can occur in the human brain, resultant from age, from accidents and sometimes, for reasons wholly unknown, with varying effects. One man is famous for his memory retention of thirty seconds. Yet another, for seven.

And then…then there is Mollymauk Tealeaf.

First came – well, he wasn’t sure, really. Waking up a John Doe in the morgue, banging frantically on the insides of the cold chamber, screaming until he was hoarse was definitely a great first memory to have. The mortician techs were appalled and he was disoriented, terrified and moreover confused. He didn’t know any more than they did who he was, not that he would have been able to convey it if he had known. Completely unable to express himself, without speech, without understanding and utterly alone, Molly entered the world.

Recovery was long and hard, both physically and mentally. The two who found him were thankfully not the same ones who put him there. Between Yasha Nydoorin, an RN working as a morgue tech assistant, and Jester Lavorre, the head Medical Examiner, Molly recovered with people who cared for him unconditionally and for whom he came to care in return. He relearned how to live life, remade himself, found a family and started over from scratch. It wasn’t such a bad life; anything was better than left for dead, and the people who took him in were kind, and he became kind in return. He was never sure what sort of person he’d been before and had no interest in knowing. It wasn’t important. He was Mollymauk Tealeaf by then and that was all that mattered.

Then, two years later, came The Accident. Molly was just crossing the street, – not even jaywalking for once! – on his way to pick up special donuts for Jester’s birthday, when the car came out of nowhere.

The thing about brain injuries, of course, is that once a person has suffered them before, they become more susceptible to re-injury in the future. Just like a broken ankle -  once weakened, it is weakened forever.

Memory is a funny thing. Molly can remember just about every moment from his first miserable awakening, shivering and naked in the pitch black cold chamber, to the time he finally realized that Yasha had heterochromia. He can recall the meaning of each and every tarot card, painstakingly learned in the first months after he spoke again. He can remember as well as anyone else the moments that made up the short time he’s been Mollymauk Tealeaf. Every important moment, of every day, that is, except the day of The Accident.

Molly can remember just fine; it’s making new memories that the problem. Like the man with thirty seconds or the one with only seven.

So when Molly gets up in the morning, it is always Jester’s birthday. Always, every day, for the rest of his life. Wake up, start the day, live the day through as though the accident never would have occurred. Go to bed, press stop. Rewind. Begin again.

Over and over.

Forever.

But it has never bothered Molly at all. After all, how can it, when he can’t even remember that it’s happening?

 


	2. 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still messing around with how to split up the timeshifts/perspective shifts on the same day, since, of course, Molly has no concept of "the next day". Whoops. Time is not indicated by the number of Dates they've had. 
> 
> This might change and, because of the story's trajectory, won't remain a problem for very long.  
> Thank you for dealing with it for now.

The first time ever I saw your face   
I thought the sun rose in your eyes   
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave   
To the dark and the endless skies

The first time ever I kissed your mouth   
I felt the earth move in my hand   
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird   
That was there at my command my love

And the first time ever I lay with you   
I felt your heart so close to mine   
And I knew our joy would fill the earth   
And last till the end of time my love

The first time ever I saw your face   
Your face, your face

 _~ The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, written by_ Ewan McColl, _performed by_ Roberta Flack

 

The house sat innocuous among a row of other, tall and narrow houses, warm stucco beneath clay tile roofs over which climbed lush vines and night blossoms. One window, amongst all the other innocuous windows, was still lit against the darkness before blinking out. From outside, this ritual seemed routine and unimportant. A thousand lights in a thousand rooms in a thousand houses were blinking out all around the world, but for those within the house to which belonged the window whose sill was filled with vibrant blossoms, whose mailbox was painted in spectacular array, this particular light going out signaled the beginning of a mad rush.

It was done out of love. It was done out of fear.

Every night, when Mollymauk Tealeaf went to sleep, it was Yasha, his very best friend in the whole world, who carefully measured and refilled his shampoo and conditioner bottles to the precise level they had been that morning, before he’d used them. And it was Jester, his partner in all things mischief and flirting, who washed the clothes he’d worn that day and made sure they were back in his closet without making a sound. It was those two dedicated friends who daily reset all of the electronics to the 6th of Sydenstar 1216 – Jester’s birthday, the day before Highsummer - and replaced all the food that had been eaten that day to match that of the last. It was Yasha and Jester who deadheaded the plants and made sure that there was the right amount of gas in the engine of Molly’s motorcycle and air in his tires. Jester and Yasha who put all his fashion magazines back in the mailbox before the morning and took the seam ripper to each beautiful new garment he made in his sewing room, replacing thread on bobbins and scraps of fabric in bins, and even setting new bolts on the shelf.

And when all of that and every little detail between was resituated, Yasha and Jester finally, _finally_ went to sleep, secure in the knowledge that, when Molly woke up, everything would be just as he had left it that same day two years ago when everything had gone so awry.

~

Frumpkin headbutted Caleb in the chin repeatedly, jostling him from his focus. Caleb shook his head, recovering himself a bit. Research always put him into a focus coma. “Ja, ja, hallo schatz. I will feed you in due course. Has Nott come back around yet?”

The fae-cat blinked his large luminescent eyes.

“I will take than as a no, then.”

Pushing back his chair, Caleb stood, stretching, his back popping and cracking as it changed position for the first time in several hours, the trapped air forcing its way out between the conjunction of bone and cartilage.

Frumpkin _brrp_ ed at him disapprovingly.

“Ja, my friend, I know. I am moving. I am going into the kitchen now and we will both have something while we wait for Nott to return.”

Life had been so different for Caleb since he arrived in Nicodranas. For one thing, the weather was constantly warm, which contrasted heavily with his own personal preference to wear long sleeves and slacks and coats and scarves and generally all the trappings of the harsh winters to which the Zemni Fields he called home were so prone. But that was all long behind him. As was Ikithon and everything for which he had worked. Caleb was out. Caleb was free. Caleb was his own man and he was going to pursue his dreams. _All_ of them, not just the ones he’d told Nott about.

Despite his small lie of omission, the actual research he was doing into cats was going quite well, especially with Nott’s assistance. They were endlessly fascinating creatures and Caleb could watch them for hours – real cats, not quite like Frumpkin, who wasn’t actually quite real, despite what Caleb said. While studying them had no real practical application, Caleb didn’t much care. They were a pastime and a passion, and book-writing required very little interactions with other people, leaving him blessedly to himself much of the time, with only Nott and Frumpkin as his company.

Well, there was also Beauregard. They’d met and immediately sparked a begrudging relationship. Beau was dealing with some similar difficulties, she didn’t ask questions, didn’t mind the cats and was also a Dwendalian ex-pat with little intention of ever going back. In fairness, Caleb hadn’t asked her many questions in return, preferring instead to simply be content that she was equally as useless as he was when it came to interpersonal interactions. It was probably a bad thing that the only two friends Caleb had made since leaving Rexxentrum were just as terrible with people as he was.

Setting down a saucer in front of Frumpkin, the cat stuck his nose up at the saucer of fish and then, thinking better of it, nipped at the tender morsels without hesitation. “Vicious little thing you are, but I still love you,” Caleb groused fondly as he headed back towards his study to pick up.

“Talking to Frumpkin again?”

 _Speak of the devil...Beauregard_.  

“Ja, well, you know me. Is this still such a surprise to you?” By way of response, Beau only snorted. Caleb turned to her a moment after speaking, throwing her a skeptical look. “What do you want Beauregard?”

“Oh, you know, not much.” Beau vaulted herself over Caleb’s study sofa, stretching herself out over the expanse. “Just wondering when we’re going to get off our asses at the Zoo and actually go on that expedition you promised when we first started working together. I wanna see some animals in their real habitats,” she complained. Caleb didn’t have to wait long for her to continue. “They look all sad and shit when they’re cooped up, you know?”

“Is that so?” Caleb asked, hiding his face to smile; Beau was always pretending she didn’t care about things but he knew better.

“Shut up.”

“I will shut up only when you finally explain to me why it is that you are so anxious to get away when you are constantly insisting that you are a laid back person without any cares in the world.”

“Man you’re fucking annoying.” Caleb could practically hear Beau rolling her eyes. “Gods, I think I just really need to get laid.”

“Ja, okay. That makes sense.” Maybe some really good sex would keep her out of his hair for a while.

There was a pause. And then-“Maybe we both just really need to get laid.”

 _That_ was quite enough. “Have you seen Nott yet today?” Caleb asked, redirecting the conversation as he shuffled around the papers that lay haphazardly on his desk. “She was meant to bring me copies of those studies from the veterinarian so I could complete the outline for this chapter.”

Caleb had to look up to catch Beau’s noncommittal shrug. “You’re avoiding the question by the way, but I’m not going to push it. Anyway, why can’t you just study Frumpkin?” She asked. “You’re with him practically twenty-four seven.”

“Because he’s a fae-cat and this chapter is about real cats, specifically the ‘big cats’.”

“Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!” Beau waved her hands dramatically in front of her utterly passive face.

Caleb blinked. “Bears are not a species of cat, Beauregard.”

“I know that. It’s a thing. You gotta say the whole thing if you’re going to say the thing in the first place. You know?”

“No. I do not know.”

Papers in order, Caleb resituated his space, thereby putting to bed all of his thoughts and work for the day. A neat and clean desk at the end of the work day meant for a fresh start the next morning and then-

“Hey, don’t you have an appointment at the sanctuary out of town tomorrow?”

Caleb stood up, books in hand to reshelf, racking his brain. _Leave it to Beauregard…_

“Ja, I do actually.”

“You forgot didn’t you?”

“…”

“Dude, just own up to it.”

“Ja. I forgot.” Caleb said as he slid the last book back into its slot. Rounding the corner, he leaned up against the desk, facing her.  “Forgive me, but I am a busy person. There it a lot going on in this brain,” he tapped a finger against his forehead.

Beau smirked. “You need to relax a bit, Caleb. Seriously. You’re going to burn yourself out. What’s the rush? Where’s the fucking fire?”

Stiffening at her words, Caleb resettled the strap of his satchel on his shoulder, making to leave.

From behind, he heard her call out. “Where you going? This is your apartment, you asshole! You can’t walk out of your own apartment, that’s weird!”

Beau’s words did not stop Caleb from leaving her alone in his apartment. She was an asset to be sure, but untried as more than an ally and he did not enjoy feeling vulnerable in front of her, especially not in his own space. Well, as much of his own space as the apartment could be considered.

Caleb had come to Nicodranas a little over six months prior. He and Nott had arrived together, rented out the apartment together, gotten jobs together, did seemingly everything together. It had been a rough few months, Caleb without any income whatsoever and Nott with only her very shady means of providing for them. The tiny goblin girl was still somehow the most competent between the two of them – later three when they had added Beau to their cadre – managing to be sure that everyone ate properly, got enough to drink and sleep and ensured, generally, that everything was well cared for. The latest apartment was a recent upgrade from the last and before that, Caleb and Nott had been living in the temporary staff lounge at the Zoo where Beau worked. It was how they had met her.

To say that Beauregard Lionett was rough around the edges would have been a severe understatement. Beau was positively ragged around the edges. They said that people who were bad with people should work with animals. Beau was completely useless with people and just as bad with the animals. When he’d asked her how she had ended up there, she had simply replied by informing him that a mistake on an internship form somehow turned into a permanent job and she’d just never bothered to do anything about it. Secretly, he knew she enjoyed it. Beau worked mostly with the birds as the primary caretaker of an owl called “Professor” Thaddeus. A match made in heaven if there ever was one, the Professor looked and acted just about as grumpy as his caretaker.

They’d gotten to know each other when Beau was brought on as a trainee in the big cat department. Someone must have thought it would be funny to put Beau Lionett in with the Lions and hadn’t anticipated that she’d actually take to it. Caleb was already situated as the research attaché when she was transferred. No one wanted to handle him and his assistant and Beau’s prickly demeanor hadn’t made her any friends, so they were thrown together as a punishment. From the beginning they had bickered like cats and dogs, but it developed into cool respect and from there, genuine (if rowdy and sibling-like) affection, though neither would ever admit to it.

But that didn’t mean that Caleb was ready for Beau to know what it was that had led him from the bitter cold metropolis of Rexxentrum to the temperate, season-less sprawling expanse that was Nicodranas.

His boots clomped heavily down the stairs. Lost in thought, Caleb almost tripped over Nott, who was slipping sneakily up with ease, hiding something within her coat.

“Caleb!” She squeaked. “Where are you going? I brought you those reports you wanted!”

“I am done for the day.” Though he hoped she would drop it, Caleb already knew he’d have no such luck.

“But,” Nott looked at him quizzically, “where are you going? We’ve got to have dinner. I brought falafel!” From somewhere within the inky black depths of her coat, she brought forth the takeaway bag. “Come upstairs and eat. You can go gallivanting places later.”

Caleb would never understand what it was about Nott that compelled him to always listen to her but, regardless, he found himself turning on the steps and making his way back up to the flat. Beau was sitting on the countertop, legs dangling off the edge, the heels of her bare feet making a satisfying _thunk_ against the wood with each swing.

“Knew you’d be back.” She addressed him. He only shrugged in response, setting down the satchel in the chair by the door. “Hey Nott. Did you bring food?”

“Yes, but not for you, leech. Get your own.” Nott hissed as she clambered up on top of the counter, nonetheless pulling three plates from the cabinet above her head.

“I’ll get my own when you stop lifting my shit.” She pulled one hand from the pocket of her blue hoodie, holding it out palm up. “I need my keys back, you little shit.”

Nott grumbled as she climbed down, passing the plates around the table before rummaging in her own pocket and drawing forth a set of keys on a tourist style keychain. “Fine. But next time, you’d better keep them somewhere less accessible. What else am I supposed to do? Just let them hang there, clinking and shiny?”

Snatching them away, Beau checked that each key was in its place on the ring before stuffing it in the pocket of her loose cargo pants. “Yeah you jerk, why do you think I’m here? I couldn’t get into my apartment. And I had to catch the streetcar home.” Beau socked her lightly on the arm, mindful of her strength by comparison to Nott’s size. “I gotta eat and run. I signed up for one of those prizefights tonight and I need to get my stuff before I go.” She said before stuffing her face. “Fankgs fr de frood gurshs!” Her words were nearly unintelligible but they waved to her as she swung her drawstring pack over her shoulder and booked it out the door.

“Yeesh. Kids these days.” Nott shook her head, perturbed. “No offence, Caleb,” she added after a moment.

Caleb disguised his smile with a large bite of falafel. Nott was only nine of course, to Caleb’s thirty-three and Beau’s twenty-one, but that hardly seemed to matter to the goblin, who had proclaimed herself his surrogate mother the day they met.

It was strange, having people again. Or rather, people who genuinely cared about him. People who were almost, very nearly, family. And that was worrisome. Caleb had come to Nicodranas to escape, to disappear, not to tie himself down. That was the whole purpose of the research expedition he’d been planning since he arrived: getting as far away as possible from everything he’d been running from in the first place. It didn’t help that Nott and Beau simply had assumed that they would be going with him. It didn’t help that he hadn’t bothered to correct them.

The fear that Rexxentrum would catch up with him gnawing at his stomach, Caleb attempted to pay attention as Nott rambled about the information she’d compiled that. While he would normally be far more invested in her words, he couldn’t escape the growing concern that the longer he stayed and the closer to these people he became, the more difficult it would be to leave. He’d only meant to use them as a means to an end but that excuse was growing farther and farther from reality as each day went by and he grew no closer to leaving on his trip.  

Caleb was getting attached and for some reason he had yet to do something about it. _This_ , he thought to himself, _is going to be a problem._

 

**_The First Date: At First Sight_ **

Caduceus was helping a customer when Molly walked in that morning. Unconcerned, he sat down in his customary booth, pulling out a spoon to occupy himself, spinning it on the table and in hand, allowing it to catch the light as he absently dawdled, waiting to be served. He didn’t mind waiting, really, especially not for Caduceus, whose easy nature made him generally unhurried. It was a boon to all those who entered _The Wicked Green_ that the demeanour of the firbolg running it matched the ambiance of the establishment.

Unfortunately, Molly had a tour scheduled at one that day, and it just didn’t feel like quite enough time left for him to prepare everything for Jester’s birthday. Tours always seemed to take longer on the especially muggy days. The tourists were slow to move and long to stare, often taking a snail’s to his brisk, upbeat tendencies. Though only mildly antsy, Molly turned in his seat, facing outwards to the dining floor and caught sight of an unfamiliar man with a wild tangle of red hair. His fingers suddenly ached to run through the fiery mess. And was that a cat around his neck? Feeling ridiculous, Molly looked away just in time, for the other man suddenly glanced up, fiddling with the placement of his cup on the saucer.

Reasonably sure that he hadn’t been caught, Molly fought against the urge to chance another quick look, his indecision saved by the timely arrival of Caduceus.

“Morning, Caduceus!” He exclaimed brightly. “Nice trim job on the beard.” It was looking quite well manicured and excellently shaped. “Do you think I should grow a one? A goatee maybe?” Molly asked, cocking his head a bit and stroking his bare chin, knowing full well that he was, for all intents and purposes, apparently incapable of growing facial hair anyways. How that had happened was anyone’s guess. No. No. Bad idea. No facial hair for him.

Caduceus smiled, all the way up to his eyes. Molly loved his smile. It was warm like sunshine. “Nah. You’re fine as you are Molly. But thanks. Can I get you a cup of tea with breakfast?”

“Sure, the peach oolong though, this time, if you please. The jasmine is good, but I’m starting to get sick of it.”

“Understandable.”

For a while, Molly fiddled with the spoon, waiting, until he heard Caduceus speaking and noticed that the redhead, with his strikingly blue eyes, was genuinely quite beautiful when in full view. He had laid the book down while he spoke with Caduceus, revealing a thin face across which had been spread a smattering of freckles, visible even at a distance, each one like a star twinkling across a pale sky. His complexion was ruddy, no doubt from the unforgiving sun. Gods, he was pathetic, waxing poetic in his head over a one in a hundred customer of Caduceus’. Pathetic. Rapidly, Molly looked away, feeling his cheeks heat with a blush.

Maybe Yasha was right. He needed to get out more.

Before Molly could make the poor decision to glance over his shoulder again and actually get up the courage to speak to him, the mysterious man finished his tea and swept away without another word, leaving Molly to wonder _what if_ all day long.

“Idiot.” He muttered to himself. “A once in a lifetime chance. Wasted. That’ll never happen again.” Resignedly, Molly dug into his crêpes, but the memory of the redhead lingered on for the rest of the day.

The tour was cancelled, Molly discovered upon arriving at work, which meant that he had the whole day off, more than enough time to handle things for Jester. He picked up her doughnuts and then made his way back to the house, only to find Yasha was already there.

“You’re home early,” he said, curious. Yasha was never home early. The morgue assistant always seemed to have more than enough work to do, and yet, there was as if waiting for him.

“So are you,” she replied in like, her face serious before breaking into a small but fond grin. “I got lucky and forgot that Bryce asked to switch shifts with me a while back. That cleared up my schedule for the day. I did a lot of the decorating already, Molly, but, remember I said that I was going to be clearing out my boxing room now that I am starting at the gym?”

Molly nodded eagerly, hardly able to contain the excitement that began to build at her words. “Well,” Yasha began. “I set it up for you to work on your projects, the way I said I would.”

“Really?” he asked, eyes shining. _Gods, how did I get so lucky?_

“Go check it out.”

Upstairs, Yasha’s old boxing room had indeed been cleared for Molly’s use, and his sewing machine and other fabric based accoutrements had been moved into the room, with the chair settled to face the window for the best light possible and a spectacular view of the Nicodranian sunset for inspiration. A whole set of shelves had been placed against the far wall, filled with Molly’s many, many bins and baskets of thread and scrap fabric and even his special cookie box of mismatched buttons and unused patches.

“Oh, Yash, this is amazing! It’s Jester’s birthday, but I’m the one getting the present!” Whirling, he hugged her tightly. “Thank you. I don’t know what I do to deserve you. I’m just so damn lucky.”

“You’re welcome Molly.” Yasha’s voice was tight with emotion, though Molly wasn’t quite sure why. “Anything for you. Everything is set for the party. Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy?”

“You’re sure?” He asked, looking at her long and hard for even a hint that she didn’t want him too.

When she smiled, he thought he detected a hint of sadness at the corner of her eyes, though he must have confused it with a misty-eyed fondness.

“Absolutely.”

Humming to himself some more, the same tune, one he knew but couldn’t seem to quite recall the words to, Molly got to work, pulling out a swatch of very particular rust coloured orange and a scrap of piercingly bright, beautiful sky blue, scattered with the light gold print of stars. Maybe the man at the shop was a missed connection, but Molly’d be damned if he was going to allow him to be a missed opportunity for inspiration. Beautiful things begot other beautiful things, after all.

 

**_The First Date: Just A Glance_ **

The next morning, Caleb headed out to the big-cat sanctuary alone. Nott left around the same time that morning for the Zoo to continue the observations she’d begun for him the day before. Normally, Caleb did not like to drive, but there was no public transportation to the sanctuary and so he was forced to use the Car.

The Car was so titled because of the massive problem that it had ended up being, and so, anytime there was an issue, and Nott asked him what was wrong, or Caleb asked her, the answer usually ended up being just two words: “The Car”.

The Car was an old VW clunker from way, way too many years ago. The yellow paint was rusting and the engine rattled and the frame shook when it went over thirty-five miles an hour but it was there and they’d needed a car and so _a car_ became _The Car,_ thanks to Nott’s dexterous fingers and Caleb’s ability to take direction. (Nott had never stopped insisting that she would someday buy pedal extensions to accommodate her small frame, but had yet to buy them or…otherwise. Meaning steal, of course. Just another reason not to stick around too long.)

Caleb wasn’t yet out of town when the vehicle choked to a stop, completely halting on a side road just to the outskirts of the Nicodranas downtown. With all his inconsiderable might, Caleb managed to push the vehicle off to the curb so it was out of the way.

“Scheiβe,” Caleb swore, wiping the sweat from his brow before pulling out his old but serviceable Nokia, and dialing up the local mechanic, Victor, for help with the car. It rang a few times, Caleb pacing as the morning sun began to heat up the already humid air. Eventually Victor answered and, as clearly as he could over the phone, Caleb explained his situation.

_“It’s going to be a while before we get out to you. There was an accident on the highway headed outbound for Port Damali. I’ll get to you as soon as I can, Mr Widogast.”_

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll just postpone the meeting then. Thank you anyways.” He snapped the cell shut, stuffing it into his pocket. Taking a look around at his surroundings, Caleb resigned himself to his fate: walking in the growing heat.

Dejected but not entirely unhappy – he resolutely did _not_ like driving either – Caleb called the sanctuary to explain and reschedule as he trudged into town, leaving The Car on the side of the road. Not  too far away was a little shop Caleb had visited once or twice, one of those ‘hidden gems’ that the people on the reality shows Nott liked to watch on their shanghaied cable visited and described with words like ‘quaint’ and ‘unique’. Not but a few blocks in from the city limits, it seemed the perfect place to wait for the tow. _The Wicked Green Tea and Bookery_ was a combo tea and book store, though ‘store’ was too limiting a word. The owner was a peculiar Firbolg called Caduceus Clay, who wore his hair in a long pink mohawk and liked to dress in flowing, gauzy fabrics and pastels. Each of the teas was grown in his indoor conservatory, which doubled as the library, where they plant life and literature comingled freely on the shelves. While books could be purchased, the proprietor operated more on a ‘take a book, leave a book’ philosophy, occasionally happy to barter or trade even for the teas, and took only cash for his blends in-house. Nott called him eccentric and, while Caleb was inclined to agree, the place was out of the way and catered to a very particular and limited clientele, so he worried less about spending money and time in such a place. And nothing – _nothing_ – could beat the ambiance of sitting indoors, surrounded by curling vines, leafing plants, and vibrant tropical blossoms, while sipping on a good hot cup of tea, immersed in a good book.

Though Caleb hadn’t been a frequent customer since the earlier days of his residency in Nicodranas, Caduceus still recognized him when he walked in.

“Ah, hello there, Mr. Widogast. Nice to see you again.” The firbolg’s deep voice was like a soothing balm, almost to a greater degree in quality than even the calming scents of tea and the homey sound of book pages rustling in laps. “Oh and hello to you too, Frumpkin.”

Frumpkin lay around Caleb’s neck like a scarf, utterly limp. He blinked once in acknowledgement at Caduceus before going back to his early morning snooze. “It is good to be back. I am only waiting a bit for the tow services to get to The Car.”

“Broke down finally?” He asked as he finished placing some white blossoming flowers against deep green leaves in one of his porcelain vases.

“Ja.”

“Shame, that. Nott here with you?” He looked down over the counter dramatically, or at least it looked that way. Caleb imagined that when someone was as tall as Caduceus, lots of things looked dramatic unintentionally.

“No, she is at the Zoo today, but I am sure that she would be happy to see you, were she present.”

Caduceus smiled widely. “Well that’s awfully nice. You can say ‘hi’ back for me.” He replied before adding-“The usual?”

Caleb smiled wryly. “Black and bitter, if that is what you mean. A nice long steep of black chai.”

“Coming right up.”

Caleb sat himself at one of the little tables nearest the counter and dug out a book from his satchel while he waited. His favourite spot was currently occupied, the one where just the right slant of light came through the window in the early morning and from the other direction in the mid-afternoon, and the chair was angled just so next to an end table of perfect height so that one could both read and sip tea from Caduceus’ cadre of mismatched and immaculate cups. The one that Caduceus set before him a few minutes later was patterned in morning glories over bone white china. The form was modern, without any other frills and the amber swirl of dark liquid within it steamed an aroma so enticing that Caleb risked burning his tongue for a quick satiating sip.

Just as he brought the cup to his mouth, a flash of light caught in his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone again. Looking up, alarmed, Caleb noticed that it was only a tiefling customer who hadn’t been there when Caleb arrived. He was facing the wall, his back to Caleb, sitting in the booth closest to the conservatory. Between his fine, thin boned finger, he twirled the utensil in a languid fashion, catching flashes of light as he did. They scattered across the walls, across the floor and tables and over Caleb himself. Mystery solved, he went back to his tea and his book; there was little that he ever allowed to distract him from his pursuits.

A few moments later, he felt eyes on him. Furtively, Caleb looked up just over the edge of the pages, adjusting his tea cup on the saucer to disguise the action. Sure enough, the lavender tiefling who had been holding the spoon had his gaze trained on Caleb. At his action, the tiefling looked away, apparently daunted.

For several more moments, nothing remarkable happened. Caleb had already read another chapter of his book and drained his cup to dregs when Caduceus slipped out from behind the counter and over to the booth with a plate of crêpes.

“Morning Caduceus!” A lively, lilting voice exclaimed. “Nice trim job on the beard. Do you think I should grow one? A goatee maybe?”

“Nah. You’re fine as you are Molly. But thanks. Can I get you a cup of tea with breakfast?”

“Sure, the peach oolong though, this time, if you please. The jasmine is good but I’m starting to get sick of it.”

“Understandable.”

Caleb let the inanity of the conversation wash over him, pushing it to the back of his mind as white noise, so much so that he hardly noticed when Caduceus walked over to his little table.

“-to eat?”

“Oh! Was denn? Oh! Oh! Uhhh… Nein, not for me today Caduceus. Nott keeps me quite well fed. But perhaps something for Frumpkin?”

“Oh I think I can arrange something.” The gentle giant tickled fondly under Frumpkin’s chin. “That’s a good kitty,” he crooned, low and slow.

Caduceus left and once again, even as he went back to his book, Caleb felt the firm gaze of the tiefling fall on him. There was something alluring about the other man, he decided when Caduceus returned, prompting him to look up. Something decidedly enticing. The stain glass window that was inset to the exposed brick of the far back wall shone broken facets of colour across the floor, spilling onto and over the soft black leather of the booths and the dark wood exterior of the tables. It cascaded onto the tiefling then, bathing him in even more hues than he already was. His clothes were a riot of pattern and colour already, and his horns were hung with chains and gems and other sparkling gemstones that would have left Nott salivating.

This was a person who stood out and did not mind in the least. And he was watching Caleb.

As Frumpkin finished the tea leaf garnished tuna bowl, Caleb stood, shaking off the strange haze that the tiefling had seemingly left him in and paid Caduceus before leaving. By the time he was out the door, the tiefling was the furthest thing from his mind. When he made it back to his vehicle, the mechanic that Victor had sent out was already there, working, so, sooner than anticipated, Caleb was underway once more.

He poofed Frumpkin away when he arrived; it was sometimes easier for him to move about the big cats without his own getting in the way. The personnel waiting for him at the sanctuary were kind and friendly and he had little difficulty getting the information he needed. One of their panthers, Osysa, was pregnant and he was allowed to sit with her as they performed a check-up. Her large, powerful paws rested in his lap as they did so and he petted at the velvety pads and the soft fur there in a soothing manner. Loudly, she purred, the vibrations tremoring through his leg.

“Cats like you, huh?” The worker asked, curious at Caleb’s ease with the large creature.

“It is a two-way street, as they say.” He smiled, seeing his reflection in the panther’s large eyes. This was his seventh visit with Osysa since he started his collaboration with the sanctuary and he inwardly preened that with each renewed interaction, she grew more and more fond of his calm, easy ways. Initially, as he always did with the big cats, Caleb had cast Friends, which allowed him close enough to the animals to show them that he meant no harm, and from there he always seemed to have little difficulty in maintaining a non-threatening demeanor. He’d never cast the spell more than once on the same animal, but it was a useful tool and it always seemed to amaze the workers who spent time with the cats and knew their personalities.

Tenderly, he rubbed behind Osysa’s ear, bending low to whisper as they finished the ultrasound. “Ja, du bist sehr schön, mein schatz. Frumkin wird sehr neidisch sein, als er uns sehen könnte.”

In response, she purred deep and low and Caleb’s heart leapt at the idea of sitting with a big cat in the wild, sharing such a simple moment far away from civilization. Far away from danger. Yes, it would have to be soon. He was so ready to be gone, to lose himself completely in the research and hide himself away from the world.

Leaving was still on his mind when he went home to find Nott had made dinner for three and Beauregard lounging on the couch, watching their tiny T.V. set. Lightning fast, reality set back in.

This was his life and he needed to get out.

The sooner, the better.

“Did you have a good day, Caleb?” Nott asked, ever mothering, and throwing him out of his head and back to the world.

“Ja. I had to get there first though.” He flicked the switch on the fan, warm buffets of air cascading downwards as the blades began to spin. Even with the windows open and the wind streaming through, it was unbearably sticky in the little apartment. He shucked the light coat he’d worn out of habit and pulled off his outer shirt, draping them over the back of the chair. “The Car broke down and I stopped by _The Wicked Green_ while I waited for Victor to send someone around again. And there was that pile up on the highway, so it took longer than anticipated.”

“Oh! Did you say hello to Deuces for us?” For someone so small, Nott found Caduceus endlessly fascinating.

“I did.”

“We should go back there sometime! It’s a lovely place. Did anything else happen?”

“Oh, ja. Osysa is going to have a baby. She was very happy to see my today. How are things at the Zoo? Did Kamaljiori give you any trouble?” Caleb inquired after the largest of the Zoo’s male lions, with whom Nott had an unfortunate reputation. He’d ran her off his ledge and into his pool, much to her chagrin. Water and Nott did not mix.

“Kamaljiori was a baby like always. I don’t get what your problem with him is, Nott.” Beau said, just to be difficult. Caleb snorted into his arm at the murderous look on Nott’s face, pretending to cough to avoid incurring her ire. Maybe Nott was right. Kids these days.

The light banter continued on around him as Nott finished dinner, making liberal use of her mage hand, but Caleb felt he could almost hear the ever-present ticking of the clock that was counting down on the time remaining until all that was before him was but a memory in the rear view mirror of a more reliable and legally purchased car.

But first, maybe, he’d make another stop by _The Wicked Green_. Another tea to calm his nerves and a long read in hand while he settled into that prime armchair was most definitely in order.

 

 

**_The Second Date: Breezed In the Door_ **

The bell on the door – well, it wasn’t a bell. It was one large fragment of amethyst hung on a fishing wire, surrounded by hollow chimes – rang as Mollymauk Tealeaf walked in the door. It was a stunning day outside. The early morning light left a warm tingle on his skin in contrast to the still moderately cool air – as cools Nicodranas ever got, at least and the air smelled of seawater and salty brine and lush green vegetation. A beautiful day for Jester’s birthday.

Without hesitation, Molly made his way to his favourite booth, the one where the table was spotted all over with fractals of colour from the stained glass that lit it from behind. He always faced the window. For some reason, he found the vibrant glass shards fascinating, the haphazard situation of their placement, the delicate way that the molten metal had been formed and hardened to hold them together, the shapes that they splayed on the interior, mystical inconceivable swirls of light and pattern. A variance each day of inspiration, the sort that Molly compiled everywhere he went so that, when he arrived home he could work on the quilt top he was sewing. No one really had a need for quilts in Nicodranas, and Molly didn’t have that class on tapestry weaving until next month, so he’d been working on a quilt to hang. It would go behind his bed, above the headboard, a spiraling fractal dream against the cool, white walls.

He only had to wait a few moments before the owner of _The Wicked Green_ ambled up, Molly’s breakfast already at hand.

“Morning, Caduceus!” He exclaimed brightly as the firbolg set down the plate in front of him. “Nice trim job on the beard.” It was looking quite well manicured and excellently shaped. “Do you think I should grow a beard?” Molly asked, cocking his head a bit and stroking his bare chin, knowing full well that he was, for all intents and purposes, apparently incapable of growing facial hair anyways. But he’d surely look distinguished.

Caduceus smiled, all the way up to his eyes. Molly loved his smile. It was warm and familiar like sunshine. “Nah. You’re fine as you are Molly. But thanks. Can I get you a cup of tea with breakfast?”

“Sure, the peach oolong though, this time, if you please. The jasmine is good but I’m starting to get sick of it.”

“Understandable.”

Molly diverted his attention as Caduceus moved off. He always got the crêpes that Caduceus made as one of the very limited foods on his menu, but Molly worked on a steady rotation of teas to keep himself feeling bright and vibrant all day long.

Within minutes, his tea was placed before him. It was beginning to seem like Caduceus had him down to a science. Molly wrinkled his nose at that. Unpredictability suited him much better. _Maybe the rose hip tea tomorrow, just to throw him off his game._

The chimes rang out again and again, people coming and going unobtrusively until a new voice broke clear and resonant above the gentle murmur of the patrons.

“Ah, Güten Morgen, Herr Clay.” It came from the counter, to which Molly had his back. The mid-ranged rumble was heavily accented in Zemnian and completely dreamy. Not that he could afford to get distracted, he had to eat and run. First there would be work. Grissens weren’t a particularly busy work day for Molly, and certainly not this Grissen. He had one tour scheduled since the week before, a special journey through the Dock District, which had been revitalized a while back, old storage buildings made new into apartments and arthouses and a very small galleries. He’d been looking forward to surprising Jester with the knowledge that her collection _The Traveler_ was going to be showcased at the Lavish Château. But that tour started at one and he had plenty of time later to handle what still needed doing.

Jester’s birthday party was scheduled to start at seven that evening and he needed to get the donuts before heading over to pick up Fjord to help set up the house. Jester and Yasha wouldn’t be home from work until five, though. There was maybe just enough time in the day to make room for some requisite flirting with whichever patron of Caduceus’ tea parlor has just walked in the door. Waste not, want not, after all.

Molly glanced over his shoulder just a little bit and found himself admiring a redheaded man of average height. He was beautiful, or rather, whatever it was that beauty looked like under a shapeless spring coat that had obviously seen better days. A gauzy blue scarf hung lose about his neck and, when he glanced around as he observed the sweetmeats and other items to nosh on that Clay had for sale, Molly managed a glimpse of his bright, bright blue eyes to match the periwinkle of the soft fabric. It was overly warm out, and, while the scarf didn’t read as a fashion statement, especially not when considering the coat with it, neither did it read as though he had no other options to wear. Something worn, something comfy. Obviously the clothing was well liked, for one reason or another, like a comfort in the great wide world around them.

Molly could understand that. He looked down at himself, past his crêpes slathered in whipped cream and strawberries, to the embroidered jacket he wore near daily. Maroon to compliment his lavender skin, the stitching was offset by every other colour imaginable: sunny golden threads mingled with moonlight silver, and a small piece of the Nicodranas gulf resided in the turquoise designs and the teal lining, complete with crescent moon prints. The purples, pinks and oranges of the sunset interspersed the rest, leaving no doubt as to the disposition of the person who had created it. The symbology embedded within the designs was likely lost on most, but Molly never minded; after all, he’d made the piece for himself, a physical representation of his identity that could be displayed before all: look out, here comes Mollymauk Tealeaf, get ready to have a good time!

The man waiting for his tea (“Ja I’ll have the usual, Mr. Clay.” “Black and bitter?” “Ja.” “Coming right up.”) did not look like the type who would be terribly easily convinced to have a good time. Not that that had ever stopped Molly before. No, the red-headed Zemnian looked like warm felt. His pale skin dusted with a golden smattering of freckles was highlighted by a pale pink blush only exertion brought. The lovely earthy tones of his coat and his chocolate coloured corduroys softened the flaming tresses of his hair, which he wore a bit long like Molly did his own. The only cool spot in his warm form were his eyes.

The man reached up and behind, gathering his tresses back and into a small bun which he tied off with a hair elastic, stray strands falling free around his face to frame his jaw, over which there was a thick growth of red beard. The whole ordeal was endlessly attractive.

Molly went back to his breakfast then,  praying a little bit that he wasn’t wrong in assuming that the book under the man’s arm meant he intended to stay for a while. Clay ran his own little lending library. Well, it was more like a ‘take a book, leave a book’ library, but many people who came in only for a quick tea or other beverage stayed longer than intended, drawn to the small porch-like sitting area, the interior overgrown with ivy and other herbs and vines.

Shifting in his seat, trying his best to turn inconspicuously, Molly saw as Clay handed the redhead a steaming, ceramic mug. Quickly, he shifted back in his seat, a certain measure of satisfaction curling warm in his chest. Yasha kept telling him to put himself out there, look for something real. Tea shops like Caduceus’ were perfectly acceptable places to walk up and say hello to people, certainly.

Molly saw the Zemnian pass into his line of vision to the best spot in the room. Everyone knew it was, but at such an hour of the morning, the folks who liked it hadn’t made their way in yet. Molly never bothered. As ironically as it sounded, considering his history, Molly had a good memory. Working the tours fit him well. Once he knew what to say, he could remember it easily and was never required to actually _read_ anything. If he had been, it would have kept him from getting the job. He was learning to read, however slowly, and it was as good a time as ever to get up and walk to Clay’s shelf like he promised himself he would do every day for…well, a long time, and then never had. He could have done it any day. It didn’t have anything at all to do with the mysterious new morning customer.

He finished his crêpes, pushing them towards the center of the table, finished his smoothie in turn and the made his way over to the conservatory/library combo. The stranger was sitting precisely in the sunny spot, angled so that the rays fell over him, bathing him in a golden glow, his hair shining bright like a copper piece. To the immediate left of the chair in which he sat was a floor to ceiling dark wood bookshelf full of colourfully books, some ragged and well loved, some new and pristine. Not trying particularly hard to decipher the titles written in various curling scripts across the spines, Molly danced his nimble fingers across them, talons tapping without any particular rhythm before plucking one off the shelf. Who was he kidding after all? This was _all_ about the customer.

Attempting to be nonchalant, Molly looked around as if admiring the pink and yellow flowers growing on the honeysuckle that wound its way over the brick wall that encased the shelf before casually allowing his gaze to land on the other man, who was engrossed in his book.

“I see you found the finest spot in the house.”

He looked up and Molly caught the best glimpse of his face yet. It was corny, but Molly felt something in his heart blossoming and the soft, tender strains of some vaguely familiar love song curled in his memory. The man wasn’t as young as Molly’d anticipated, maybe half a decade or so older than Yasha had guesstimated Molly to be. There were concentration lines around his eyes, still small and fine, and frown lines around his mouth, belaying the serious vibe that his clothing choice indicated. He looked almost like a photograph, sitting there in the sun, book half open in his lap. Maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was just Molly’s tendency to let his imagination run away with him sometimes, but for a second, his heart sped up as a fleeting thought sparked through his mind that, yes, this was a person Molly wanted to know. A beautiful, interesting person with a story, who probably spent most of his time in the north, sipping on steaming coffee while the world turned white outside under snowfall, and maybe Molly was there with him while it happened, seeing that miraculous white precipitation for the first time, and they’d sit together in front of the fire, reading aloud and he’d lean in and- Well now! That was getting a bit carried away.

A small wrinkle appeared between the stranger’s eyes as he looked Molly over.

“Ja, it’s a good spot.”

“Usually it’s taken. You got here just in time. You see the lady over there in the corner?” Molly pointed, holding the book close to his chest with the other hand. “She’s always hurrying over to claim this spot.”

Dryly, almost scathing, the other man spoke, closing his book in the process. “Are you politely attempting to ask me to leave, or what?”

Wide eyed, Molly shook his head furiously. “No! Gods, no! I- sorry, sorry I just- I’m- what are you reading?” _Introduce yourself, idiot!_ Awkwardly, not connecting his words to his actions. Molly stuck out his hand. The Zemnian looked down at his hand skeptically and made no move to shake. “Er…”

“It is a book about cat training.” He said after a moment, much to Molly’s surprise.

“That sounds fascinating. I’ve never read about cat training before.” _This is not going well_.

Wasn’t he going to have just the best story for Yasha and Jester later! Foot in mouth, Molly managed to keep from squirming under the Zemnian’s stern gaze.

“Ja, may I continue reading now? Or do you have something more you wish to say?”

“I was just thinking that I haven’t seen you in here before, but Caduceus seems to know you. I’m part of the usual morning crowd, so I tend to know everyone in the place.”

“Ja, well. I was part of the midday crowd for a bit and now I am part of the morning crowd and if that lady wishes to have this spot, she will have to start getting up earlier.”

Unable to help himself, Molly chuckled.

The stranger looked a little put out. “I was not making a joke. I mean this.”

“Oh, I understand that completely.” He smiled fondly. “You remind me of a very good friend of mine. She’s like that, too.”

He raised his brows as if inquiring “like what?” but said nothing and Molly was starting to feel rather inelegant.

“Is that so?”

“Well, um. Yes.” _Gods, what a mess. Completely starstruck. Why am I making an utter fool out of myself oh my dear sweet Sehanine!_ “Anyways…” Molly trailed off, lacking for anything intelligent to say, it seemed. “Well I’ll leave you to it, the, um, the book.”

“Yes, and you have one yourself, I see.”

Molly remembered the book in his hand, lifting it absently to look at the cover, something about mushrooms? “Yes! Yes, I do. Have this book. To read. Right. Nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too.” The stranger opened his book again, stuck his nose in it and completely ignored Molly, who couldn’t help but linger awkwardly one moment longer before turning to go.

“Wait…”

Pleasantly surprised, Molly turned around to see the other man watching him curiously. “Yes?”

“You give tours, ja?” He pointed a finger directly at the badge that hung from a clip on Molly’s collar. He toyed with it absently.

“Yeah, actually. There’s a lot to see in Nicodranas.” He turned back, hopeful, edging towards the seat across from the handsome stranger. “I’m Mollymauk by the way. Mollymauk Tealeaf. Friends call me Molly.”

“Caleb. Widogast.” Caleb said his name like it was in two sentences, a stilted sort of half made decision that slipped out while it was still just a thought cooking in his brain. _Adorable. Fucking adorable._ “Would you, ah, like to sit?”

“I- yeah, sure. That’d be lovely.”

Time fairly flew by. Somehow, the hot, introverted Zemnian wizard _– a wizard! –_ named Caleb was interesting in talking to him, in discussing Nicodranan architecture and the revitalization project and even art! The hot, _smart_ , introverted Zemnian wizard named Caleb who, at one point, pulled out a pair of tortoiseshell glasses to look at his watch. Molly checked the clock on the wall behind them. Nearly eleven. Almost three hours had passed since he’d first noticed Caleb.

“I am afraid I am running a little behind, but I have enjoyed our conversation. Danke, Molly.”

“Um, you’re welcome, I think?” Molly blushed when Caleb smiled at him, however slightly.

“Ja, that’s right.”

They stood simultaneously and Molly had to step backwards out of the way for Caleb to get past. It was almost ridiculous how flustered he was feeling, but he knew that it was exactly was what Yasha had been talking about. A connection. A real, genuine connection with someone. Someone special.

He smiled, waving at Caleb one last time before he breezed out the door, red hair gusting as the wind blew in suddenly. Molly stared stupidly after him until Caduceus cleared his throat loudly enough to penetrate his daydreams. “Well that was interesting,” he said, looking at Molly knowingly. “If I’m not mistaken, you just managed to charm Caleb Widogast.”

“Is that so impressive?” Molly asked, well knowing that it probably was. Clay, for all he managed to be oblivious to a lot of the time, was insanely insightful.

“Caleb doesn’t talk to anyone. He’s only been in here a couple times, but he never talks except to order tea from me. You may have just performed a minor miracle. More oolong?”

“No, I’ve got to go.” Molly gathered his things from his old booth. “I’ve got a few errands to run and then I’ve got to get to work.” There was a long enough pause that Molly had to turn and look at Caduceus, whose face was contorted with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You work?” Coming from anyone else, the question would have been ludicrous. As it was Molly only rolled his eyes.

“Caduceus, sometimes I think you need to get out more.” Molly said as he left with a wink and a smile, missing the way Clay’s eyes narrowed as he scratched the side of his head before sighing wearily and picking up the phone to dial out, watching carefully as he did to be sure that Molly was well out of earshot.

Caleb wasn’t far down the road and Molly jogged just a bit - only a little, itty bit - to catch up to him. “Wait! Caleb, um. Would you like to have breakfast with me sometime? Tomorrow, maybe, if you’re free? It’s just, I had a good time today and I thought maybe…” he trailed off. _Useless. Gods, you’re completely useless at this, Molly!_

“Oh…” Caleb looked uncertain and at first, Molly thought he’d blown it completely. “Erm, ja. Okay. I can do that. I will see you tomorrow then?”

“Same time, same place?” Molly couldn’t be bothered to feel like a fool, couldn’t stop the spread of his smiled.

“That sounds very amenable.”

“Great. That’s great. Right. Um. Yeah,” Molly put out his hand with a flourish. “You’ve got to get going. I’m keeping you. Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll just. Yeah. See you, tomorrow.”

Caleb looked a bit confused at Molly’s rambling, but it didn’t matter because he’d finally done it. He’d finally taken a step forward and Yasha was going to be _so_ proud of him.

“Bye!” He called to Caleb, walking backwards towards his motorcycle.

Caleb waved a little and Molly took it as a good sign. Definitely a good sign.

Today was going to be a good day.

Unable to contain his elation, Molly hummed to himself that same damn nameless song as he swung a leg over the seat, situating himself as he turned the key and brought the motorcycle purring to life. He couldn’t wait to tell Yasha later.


	3. 2.

2.

And it feels like the first time

Like it never did before

Feels like the first time

Like we’ve opened up the door

Feels like the first time

 _~ Feels Like the Very First Time_ by Foreigner

“Caleb, you’re back early!” Nott looked up from her experiment, pushing off the goggles she wore to protect again corrosive substances Face a dark green flush and hair sticking to her forehead, Nott looked like she was melting. All the windows were open to air out the room; she was always messing with some chemicals or another in her spare time. “I finished those observations at the Zoo. How did things go at the sanctuary?”

Caleb removed his coat, hanging it up absently. “It was fine, ja. No problems. I gathered the last of the information on that tiger, Melchior.” _And I have a date._ I _have a_ date _with a_ gorgeous _tiefling._

Nott frowned at him, hopping off her stool to stand next to him. “Something’s happened. Don’t tell me it hasn’t, I can tell that there’s something,” she prodded at him, physically poking her finger into his thigh.

Caleb weighed his options. Nott would know if he was lying. She had some manner of uncanny ability to parse out all his lies, though sometimes, he knew that she was kind and pretended not to notice that he’d told them. This time, however, he knew she would not be letting it go.

Since his brief, impromptu stopover at _The Wicked Green_ , Caleb had been completely unable to get the lavender tiefling – _Mollymauk. He is called Mollymauk. –_ out of his head. It was completely ridiculous of course. There were so many other more important things that he needed to be focusing on. His research with the cats, planning the expedition, keeping a low profile, all of those things ought to have taken priority in his brain the way that they had the day before when Mollymauk had eyed him up all through his cup of tea. Upon leaving, he’d put Molly utterly from his mind. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore. His eidetic memory just wouldn’t allow the image of Molly’s gleaming ruby eyes and wicked smile to fade into the background.

All through his session with Melchior and his caretakers, Caleb found himself distracted, thinking about the entirely awkward beginning to the riveting conversation he’d had with Molly that morning. It was obvious that Molly had intentions of speaking to him the day prior and hadn’t acted on them, obvious that he’d been nervous to approach Caleb even the next day. But he’d made a concentrated effort to converse in a way that Caleb didn’t find utterly and completely inane. There was genuine interest present in Mollymauk to spend that time discussing cats and architecture. While it didn’t appear that Molly knew anything about cats himself, he certainly had an eye for design, that much was apparent.

The man himself was a walking canvas of tattoos, colours, symbols, you name it. He was every colour of the rainbow that Caleb himself lacked and yet, Molly had genuinely seemed interested in him. Strange as it was, Caleb couldn’t help but find himself flattered. At first, after informing Molly that he needed to leave, Caleb had thought that would be the end of it, that perhaps they’d see one another again if he chanced to visit _The Wicked Green_ once more before the expedition set out, but then Molly had defied every expectation and come after him.

 _It was only one – it was three hours. Just three hours. How much difference can three hours really make? You are_ leaving _on this expedition as soon as the section on cats in captivity is completed._

“Ah, ja, okay, well…” Caleb hemmed and hawed, avoiding saying the words he knew Nott would inevitably pry from his mouth.

“Go on, then!”

“I have a date tomorrow?” There. He’d said it aloud. The strange incomprehensible happenstance of that morning was solidified in stone as the result of allowing Nott to hear it. _Why? Why did you say yes?_

She looked gobsmacked and overjoyed simultaneously. “A date!? Really Caleb? Oh that’s wonderful!” Nott exclaimed, smiling toothily before pausing, the look swallowed by confusion. “How did you manage that?”

Caleb actually laughed at that, despite the fact that he was growing more and more nervous by the moment. “I am capable of making conversation that is pleasant with people other than yourself and Beauregard.”

“Pshaw!” She spat, skeptically. “You can’t even make regular conversation with Beau, never mind a pleasant one. So what happened?”

“I met a local at Caduceus’ shop. A tiefling named Mollymauk Tealeaf. He is a tourist guide and was very interested by my cat training book.”

“Ri-ight. I believe that.” Just as Caleb was about to respond, Nott continued. “I bet he just saw how handsome you were and thought you were the perfect catch! Oh, Caleb! And then he asked you on a date?”

Several things at once were running through Caleb’s mind. One, being that it was Molly who was handsome, not Caleb himself, and two, that he was far from the perfect catch for anyone, which Nott didn’t know and never could, and three, that it was all a very, very big mistake and he should just refrain completely from going, but instead he found himself nodding with her.

“Ja, he asked me to have breakfast with him again tomorrow. Caduceus seems to know him, so I thought maybe it would not be so bad to say yes. I do not know why I did it. It was stupid.” _You were entranced by a pair of pretty eyes like Nott is by rich snobs blouse buttons, you utter arschloch!_

In reality, Caleb had no clue what had possessed him to say yes. Something about Molly’s rakish smile, or his enigmatic bearing and how utterly self-confident he’d seemed when he first walked up as opposed to the absolute butchery that was his attempt to come on to Caleb. Really, the man had practically stumbled over his words.  And then, when they’d parted amicably, the last thing he’d expected was for Molly to come running out after him. The last thing he’d expected was to be asked on a date. The last thing he’d expected was to agree.

Maybe that was why he was telling Nott. Saying something made it real. It nearly made him believe it had happened. Perhaps the more unbelievable thing was that Caleb had even had the presence of mind to respond, though saying yes wasn’t what he’d intended. He’d intended to turn him down, to tell him he was leaving town, to say anything at all to free himself of the burden of social personhood and another potential tie to the town he was trying so desperately to leave. Anything to avoid the inevitable let down that the lack of a repeated date would be. After all, Caleb knew he wasn’t fit for that sort of thing and it would only be a matter of time until Molly could see it too.

Instead, he had blinked owlishly at the very excitable Mollymauk and of all things-“I told him that it sounded very amenable,” he blurted. Nott’s jaw dropped.

“You said what?! Caleb!” She moaned. “Oh that’s so, so…” he could see the cogs in her brain turning, attempting to come up with a positive way to spin the absolute most clinical and impersonal response to ‘will you go out with me?’ ever uttered. “I don’t know what it is actually, but whatever it was, it was terrible. It’s okay. We’ll work on it. Oh!” She hopped up and down a bit. “But I’m so happy for you, Caleb!” Wrapping her arms around his knees, Nott hugged him tightly, and he let her. “Tell me all about him?” she asked as she pulled away.

“So he is a lavender tiefling with many tattoos and he seems fond of colour.”

Nott gestured with her hand, indicating that he ought to go on. Caleb sighed, only glad that Beau wasn’t present to mock him. Nott’s mothering, at least, he could put up with. It was sweet and harmless and it made her happy. If there was one thing Caleb loved besides cats, particularly Frumpkin, it was seeing Nott happy. Over dinner, he indulged her with a play by play of his every interaction with Molly, conveniently leaving off the lingering glances he’d felt the day before. There were some things that even she did not need to know. Among those things was included the fact that all day long, whenever he saw a flash of purple anywhere, he’d automatically been treated to the image of Molly’s exuberant and relieved face when Caleb had agreed to breakfast, shy grin spreading like the slow sun from behind the cloud and loose curls of hair falling into this eyes as he’d ducked his head in embarrassment before finally walking away. And if Caleb felt a little flush occasionally as he narrated, it was due only to the overwarm weather and not in the least to the fluttering of butterfly wings in his stomach and the tiny thrilling thrum in his heart.

**_The Third Date: Houston, We Have A Problem_ **

“You’re going.”

“Nein, I am not. I have thought better of it. It is a terrible idea. I am leaving on the expedition as soon as this chapter is complete. I cannot possibly go to breakfast with this man knowing that I have no intention of staying in town. That would be impolite and unkind and he seems like he was very nervous to ask me and I don’t want to-“

Nott cut him off, both physically at verbally, blocking from the entryway to his study, hands firm on her hips. He could have probably stepped over her, but he did not, waiting patiently for her tirade.

“If you don’t go,” she began, “that’ll be even worse than if you do, because then you’ll be standing him up and he’ll wonder if you just said you’d go to get him to leave and he’s probably all excited to see you, since you said that he was so nervous, which means he must really like you. And I mean _really_ like you. And if you don’t go he’ll feel really, really terrible. So you’re going. And if you feel that badly about it you can tell him all about your expedition plans. It’ll probably come up anyways, you know. Since this is a _date_.”

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and then quickly uncrossed them, at risk of feeling like a petulant child standing up to its mother should he have remained in that stance. He was beginning to regret having said anything at all. “Look, Nott, I know that you are very fond of me, but I am not good dating material. I’m not staying in Nicodranas, I am not looking to put down roots and I am not looking for a relationship because I am terrible at people and this is going to go very poorly. So I am going to do Mr. Mollymauk a favour and simply not show, so that he can be rid of me as quickly as possible.”

“That’s a terrible idea. You’re going at that’s final. Now, go put on that cream coloured button up and those slate grey slacks that I got you so you look nice for this Molly. I trust you Caleb, but I only hope that he’s good enough for you.” She pushed him towards his bedroom door with all her might, and he only budged so as not to risk hurting her, allowing her to push him along.

He looked down at her when he stood in his doorway, lifting a judgmental brow as if to say _“really?”_.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. You were positively red in the face last night just talking about him. You like him. Anyone could see that, not just me.”

“Lass den Quatsch!” He threw up his hands. “It was just very warm. You were extra green last night, my little friend, don’t try to make my applesauce when you have no apples to use, okay?”

“That didn’t make any sense, Caleb, but whatever. Now you’re just being ridiculous. Go change and then get out of here or you’ll be late.” She gave one last shove. “Don’t make me tell you again.” As she shuffled off to give him privacy he heard her mumble again about ‘kids’.

 _Göttern_ , he loved her. Her little body held a huge heart and he definitely didn’t deserve her, but then, there were many things that Caleb did not think he deserved. She didn’t know what had happened, why he had run to the south, but she never pushed too hard, not on the things that mattered. Feeling appropriately chastised and not wishing to disappoint her, Caleb pulled on the button up shirt and the slacks, threading his worn leather belt through the loops as a final touch. Before leaving, he took care to tuck the charm he wore beneath his shirt collar. Sighing heavily, Caleb looked at himself in the mirror. Presentable at the least. It would have to do.

When Caleb arrived at Caduceus’ shop, he was just a little bit later than the day before and he could hear Nott’s quatschen in the back of his head, scolding him for making Molly wait. Indeed, as he walked in, Caleb could see the unmistakable purple of the tiefling’s hair from over the back of the booth where he had been sitting both days previous. He seemed to arrive at roughly 7:15 every morning, on the dot, and already had his pile of crêpes and a steaming cup of tea sitting on the table in front of him. He looked about to dig in and Caleb understood the impulse. It must have appeared that he was being stood up, just the way Nott had said it would, and his pulse jumped anxiously. As

Pushing it down, Caleb walked around the booth to face Molly, hesitating before sitting.

“Hallo there. I know that you were waiting for me and I’m sorry it took a little while, but I am here now, so, if you are alright with it, I will sit now.”

Mollymauk looked up at him, expression an enigma. “Excuse me?” He asked, a tone to his voice that caught Caleb completely off guard.

“Um, ja, you, I-“

“Can I help you with something? Not that I exactly mind, but it sounds like you’re coming onto me and while I’d normally appreciate that, I can’t say as it’s the first thing I look forward to in the morning while I’m having me tea.”

Caleb was utterly speechless. “Was…was…Sind Sie…Are you having me on? Is this, is this some sort of-“ All of the sudden he felt himself pulled backwards by the collar. Caduceus hauled him backwards.

“Sorry, Molly. He won’t be bothering you again.”

“ _Was_ in der _Hölle_ ?” He hissed at Caduceus as the seven foot tall firbolg hauled him bodily out the door. For being so tall, Caduceus had never exactly seemed strong, but Caleb wasn’t exactly a heavyweight champion himself. Taken aback, Caleb was more confused than anything. “Was geht’s los hier? Yesterday there was no issue! He- !” Caleb gestured emphatically at the door. “He asked me to meet him for breakfast this morning and I almost did not even come! I do not know why I said yes! And now this is all a joke or something? What is going on?” The sinking feeling in his stomach was growing hard like a peach pit. _You never should have come, you never should have done this, you should have seen this coming what are you even doing, just go, just leave, it is clear that you are unwanted-_

Caduceus let go of him and put his hands forth placatingly; in response, Caleb forced his breathing to ease, not wishing to cause any more of a scene. Caduceus was watching him warily, as one might a wild animal. And Caleb would know, he made that face himself often enough. Breathing in to steady his composure, he nodded at the firbolg. “I’ll explain as best I can. If I’d have known you were there to see him, I’d have stopped you, but I didn’t,” he began. “After you left, I, uh, got a little confused about something. Molly’s been a customer a long time. I’m not one to pry, you know, but I know a few of his friends, who told me to give them a call if anything seemed…weird.”

“What is so odd about that?” Caleb asked, confused.

“Well, Molly’s in every single day. Sometimes for a long while. He’s never talked about work before, I guess I shouldn’t assume but it didn’t seem important. So I called them yesterday.” At the look of alarm on Caleb’s face Caduceus backtracked. “Not about you. Something Molly said to me. About working. Long story short, uh, Molly’s a very special person.”

Caleb wasn’t entirely sure what picture it was he was supposed to be getting, but he wasn’t sure it made any more sense than before. “Special how?”

“Did you say he asked you to breakfast yesterday after the both of you left?”

“Ja. He asked me if I would like to meet him here today.”

“Well. That’s a problem.” Caduceus stroked his trim pink beard. “Uh, well. Last night, I was talking to Jester – that’s Molly’s friend. So Molly…”

“What about him?” Caleb was growing impatient and the gnawing feeling in his stomach was making him feel even worse about his decision to come to breakfast.

“So, he uh, he didn’t remember asking you.”

“What do you mean? He just asked me yesterday, he-“ Suddenly it became all too clear. Between the morose look on Caduceus’ face to the complete lack of recognition and altogether strange exchange within the shop, the picture finally became clear, even as Caduceus began to explain it to him.

“Molly’s got serious short term memory loss. He can’t retain any new information longer than a day. Jester told me he was in an accident two years back, a hit and run. They never found the guy, and Molly can’t even remember it happened. Lots of things made sense after that phone call, now that I think about it.” Caduceus blinked a bit, nodding. “I thought the guy just really liked crêpes. Some people are particular like that, you know? Turns out, his brain resets overnight and he wakes up every day thinking that it’s the day before Highsummer two years ago. Lives the same exact day, over and over again.”

Caleb felt…something. Nauseous and relieved all at once, maybe? Nauseous because a man with a short term memory recall of a day had asked him on a date and then completely forgotten him. The more Caleb puzzled over it, the more it hit him that two days in a row he had garnered Molly’s attentions without the benefit of that memory. The initial interest was at least legitimate then. And then there was the washing over of relief, that pass like the waves that meant that he wasn’t obliged, that he could simply walk away, that he wouldn’t have to tell Mollymauk that he was sorry to have misled him, that he was going away and they wouldn’t be able to continue…well, whatever it was that they had begun.

“That’s…”

“I know. I was thinking the same thing. What a terrible hand, hey?”

“Uh, ja. Ja.”

“So that’s the gist of things anyways. If I were you, I’d maybe give it a break today.” Caduceus nodded and turned to go, before pausing. “Oh, and I think next time I’d just let him come to you.”

Caleb nearly did a double take as the firbolg headed towards the door. “Excuse me, but what did you just say?”

“Well,” Caduceus looked over his shoulder, one hand braced on the door frame. “It’s obvious that he likes you. He was watching you two days ago and he asked you out yesterday. And it’s obvious that you’re disappointed, so I figure you’ll be coming back. Next time, let him make the first move. If the past two days are any indication, he’ll come to you anyway.”

With that, Caduceus disappeared back inside his shop, leaving Caleb to stand uneasily out beneath the sweltering sun.

Caleb went home.

It was a Yulisen and so it didn’t much matter what he did with his day. He always left Yulisen open for the mess of things he didn’t get done during the main part of the week, but his mind was like a mottled white wall, empty of its usual amalgam of spinning thoughts, just the one consideration painted across it in vibrant red. What sort of memory loss was this that it affected only a day’s worth of memory? Had he been taken for a fool, wool pulled over his eyes and sent trotting on his way none the wiser that Mollymauk had changed his mind? Was it all an elaborate prank? Or was it genuinely true?

So singularly focused was he that he nearly ran into Beau from behind on the stairs.

“Gods Caleb! Watch out, would you?” She barked at him, before recalculating. “What’s up with you anyways? You look…weird.”

Mind suddenly made up, Caleb looked hard at her. “Beauregard, are you in a hurry?”

“No, I just went downstairs to get some ice, but the machine’s fucking broke. Big surprise. Not like we’ve got the BEST LANDLORD IN THE BUSINESS!” she hollered into the stairwell, voice echoing. From below they could hear a faint. _“Yeah, Yeah, Gods, just get over it you bitch!”_

Beau snickered. “Fuckin’ jerk.” She turned back to Caleb. “Yeah, so, what’s up?”

“Let’s go to your flat. I need to tell you some things.”

The inside of Beau’s flat was very, very different than Caleb and Nott’s. It was a sparse, open space with little decoration but that was where the similarities ended. Beau’s main space was taken up primarily by a punching bag and she had a little cabinet that housed the various awards she’d won in her boxing ring. Beyond that, there was a single chair, a nicer TV and a meditation mat in the corner, which rarely saw use. When Beau really wanted to meditate, she went to the beach. Around the tiny, circular kitchen table there was only one chair, which Caleb took, because Beau immediately vaulted herself up and onto the counter, which was immaculate, not because she liked to clean, but because he knew that she never actually used the kitchen for anything; most days, Beau ate in his apartment or got takeout instead.

“So what’s the deal? You’re wigging out on me, man.”

Caleb leaned in. “You must promise to hear me out and not to mock me at any point. Can you do this?”

She must have understood the seriousness of his emotions, because she nodded, keeping her smart mouth closed.

“So, two days back I went to _The Wicked Green_ while The Car was being fixed, just to wait, you know? And there was a person there, a tiefling, who was watching me. I didn’t think a lot of it, but I went back the tea shop the next day, just to relax a bit in the morning, you know? The tea was good and I felt like spending time there not incidentally. Well the same tiefling was there and-“

Caleb paused. Beau was watching him, rapt. “Well?” She put out her hand, gesturing him on.

“I-ah…he asked me out. To breakfast. For this morning.”

At first, Beau did not respond. It took her a minute, seemingly to process. “So what happened? Why’re you here and not on a hot date with some tiefling?”

“I was not going to go, but Nott insisted it would be impolite if I did not. So I went and when I got there, he did not remember me.”

Beau snorted. She simply couldn’t help it. “What?” She asked, between half incredulous laughter. “He didn’t ‘remember’ you? Shit, I’m sorry Caleb, that’s a really shit move. I guess you shoulda just stood the guy up.”

“Ah, ja, that’s what I thought too, but then Caduceus hauled me outside – you know, he is actually quite strong, I was very surprised – and explained to me that he was not being an arschloch, he really does not remember. He only has a day’s long short term memory recall.”

“You’re joking.” Beau was not laughing anymore.

“I am not, or at least, I do not think I am. Caduceus seemed very serious. He says that he spoke to one of Mollymauk’s friends on the phone and that they explained the situation to him. Apparently Mollymauk was in an accident two years ago and every morning he wakes up, thinking that it is that day. So, he does not only not remember asking me to breakfast, he does not remember that I even exist. He relives the same day from two years ago over and over again.”

“Well, uh…” Beau appeared to consider for a moment. “That’s a good thing?”

“Was? How?”

“Well-“ She moved from sitting to crouching on the counter, a sure sign that she was really thinking hard. “You’re not really going to be around here much longer, right?”

Caleb nodded.

“And obviously you’ve got to be interested in the guy – was he hot?”

“Oh um, ja.” Caleb replied, distracted by the fact that Beau had begun to place herself in position to do a hand stand. On her kitchen counter. “Ja, he is very attractive.”

“So why not just enjoy it while you can? And then, when you leave, it won’t matter, because he won’t miss you.” Her forearms were down beside her head and she pushed her whole lower body up, the muscles of her core contracting sharply as she willed her legs into the air.

“That…that is…” _Terrible. Taking advantage. Unkind... Not a bad idea?_

“I mean, think about it. It’s not going to hurt him. He approached you, right? So he’s got to like you. Can’t say I see the appeal though.”

“Beauregard, you are a lesbian.”

“Doesn’t mean that I can’t be objectively critical of men’s appearances. Get with the programme, Caleb. Anyway, this ‘Mollymauk’ has a nice breakfast date in the mornings, gets a boost to his day, makes him feel good and you get no-strings attached semi-platonic companionship until we hightail it outta here. Win-win.” Beau replied, watching him from upside down.

“I am not sure I am comfortable with that,” Caleb began, just as Beau pushed upwards some more, until she was balancing on only her hands, and then, just the one.

“Seriously Caleb, what’s the harm. I think you need this. Man, we’re shit at people and we’ll probably always be shit at people, but you need more than just me and Nott and the cats. You’ve got to put yourself out there. Consider this practice. Sure, maybe he’d keep coming to you, but you can’t know that. How’d it actually go today, when you walked in? You never said?” Gingerly but deftly, Beau switching hands.

“Ah, quite poorly when I approached him. He was not receptive at all.”

“So make it a challenge. Get him to want to go out with you. Maybe you’ll actually learn some people skills that way.”

Caleb considered it for a moment. “This is not a half bad idea, but I will have to think about it.”

Shifting her weight and twisting, Beau sprung from the counter and landed, poised on the floor in front of him. “Sorry for all the gymnastics, man, you’re intruding on my practice hour.”

“It is no big deal.” Caleb was just glad that Beau was so short, or her hand stands on top of the counter may have been a problem.

“Anyways, I think you should look at this as an opportunity. I mean, really, what’s the harm?”

As always, Beauregard was somehow very convincing. It helped, of course, that she could physically incapacitate him within moments, but he still remained uncertain.

“This plan does not sound like me.”

“That’s why it’s a good plan. Look, you’re never going to get an opportunity like this again…or well, actually you’ll get the same opportunity every day. Whatever. It’s uh…uh… semantics! Yeah!” Beau punched him in the shoulder, perhaps harder than she’d intended. “Point it, you have to know when to leap and when not to. And right now is the time to leap.”

Rubbing his shoulder, Caleb stood from the chair. “I will think about it, Beauregard. I cannot promise you anything else.”

She shrugged at him. “Hey, you do you man, I’m just saying.”

“Ja, I know what you are saying. Now. I think I am going to go back to my apartment and just pretend that none of this has happened for a while.”

“Right. You go do that.” Beau made to slap him on the back, but he flinched reactively and she cringed, sheepish. “Sorry Caleb. I forget.”

He shook his head and waved her off. “Ja, I know you do. Now. Goodbye.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Of course you will,” He said, not even looking back at her as he made his way to the door. “You know, you should learn to feed yourself sometime.”

“I can!” Beau called back as the door swung shut behind him. “I just don’t want to!”

One more flight of stairs took Caleb to his door, which he found locked, meaning that Nott was out and about somewhere doing something. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to face her back to back with Beau, Caleb went into his bedroom and closed the door.

It was stifling. Normally, in the heat, he and Nott would leave everything open if they were home, to promote better airflow, but he wanted the peace of silent darkness, or at least as silent as an apartment building got these days. He did open the window, but left the shade pulled and flicked on the fan to compensate. The blades spinning endlessly above him, Caleb stared into the reflective metal covering of the mechanical centerpiece, watching as the centripetal force left it vibrating wildly.

_And then, when you leave, it won’t matter, because he won’t miss you._

There was merit to that statement, Caleb had to hand it to Beau. She certainly thought efficiently. It wasn’t that Caleb wanted to be alone. Rather, the twofold reasons were that he could not afford to become attached to people who might end up in danger because of him and that he simply did not deserve the attention. Nott and Beau were different. Originally attachments of convenience rather than desire, he knew that they could take care of themselves, and though he was loath to leave them unknowing of the potential danger he’d put them in, knowing less was a better protection against harm. So he hadn’t allowed himself to grow close to anyone else except for the cats.

Molly was harmless. He was perfect. He wouldn’t remember Caleb at all, and Caleb would be free to enjoy some company without worry. It was the deserving part that left him uncertain. Mollymauk did not know with whom it was that he desired to spend time. And though he deserved to know, it would never matter if the next day played out the same. But harmless almost meant helpless, essentially, and that was worrisome. Not that Nott or Beau were particularly prepared to have to take care of themselves should someone come after him, especially if he didn’t tell them. His conscious was starting to bother him. _You cannot afford to question your plan. You cannot afford to be weak..._

Caleb tried not analyze it too closely. If he did, he’d have to acknowledge that his plan was little more than a loophole and then begin to rationalize his choices all over again. Too closely and it might begin to resemble the unfortunate circumstances that had befallen him once. Memories were sacred things…

He shook himself out of the recollection, flashes of firelight and gleaming perfect smiles and the harsh, disapproving frown of Ikithon were all parceled up and packaged away as quickly as possible. Backpedaling, Caleb circled back on Beau’s proposition. Perhaps she was right. It was different. He wasn’t altering the memories himself. And if Molly did not come to him, it would not matter. It may have been a fluke after all. And if he did? Perhaps it would be good practice, never mind the fact that when he did finally leave on his expedition, he wouldn’t have need for better people skills anyways.

~

**_The Third Date: Unwanted Attraction_ **

Molly was perturbed. Things had started out alright that day. He’d gotten up, taken a shower, dressed and headed out for Caduceus’. Crêpes. He’s had a craving for crêpes from the moment he’d woken and Caduceus always had fresh strawberries in house by some miracle of the Moonweaver. Jester and Yasha were already gone by the time he got up, so he rolled up the garage door and pulled out on the motorcycle instead of catching a ride with one of them.

All in all a typical morning. Caduceus was almost getting freaking, anticipating Molly’s order like that, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. And then, the drop dead gorgeous Zemnian man walked up and started talking to him.

It was weird and Molly felt defensive for some reason, and a little freaked out, but man, was the guy coming on strong with all his talk about how Molly had been ‘just waiting for him’ and he wasn’t in the mood.

He’d never seen Caduceus move so fast. It wasn’t any big secret that the firbolg enjoyed his own mushrooms a bit too much sometimes, but it was like lightening how the Zemnian man had been pulled backwards and dragged out the door. So quick that it Molly was almost suspicious that Clay had been using magic. The eccentric firbolg had been known to infuse a bit illicitly into his tea concoctions from time to time.

A few minutes later, Molly was halfway through his plate when Clay came back in, nodded to Molly and then went back to manning the front counter. The Zemnian man didn’t come back in, however he’d remained on Molly’s mind. It was probably a not-very-good-thing that he found himself daydreaming about the man on his ride to work – he did have a tour scheduled for one that day.

Though they had only interacted for a few short moments, Molly had still managed to memorize his face. The first thing he’d noticed were the lips. Rough, a bit chapped, perhaps from the sun, considering his complexion, and a soft petal pink, the way that they moved around his heavily accented words was mesmerizing. And then there was his cheekbones, sharp and harsh in the manner as his pronunciation of consonants.

So he was beautiful, a well composed face on a nicely formed body, but talk about _stuck up_ , the way he’d come onto him! Even Molly wasn’t quite that bad. Well, at least he could be subtle if he tried. Sometimes…Regardless, the move had rubbed Molly wrong, like the man had expectations of him, as if he were expecting something _from_ him, what was more. So, beautiful or not, it wasn’t a chance Molly felt bad about passing up.

_So then why are you so stuck on this guy?_

He shook his head, clearing it in time to notice that the light was green and a horn was blaring at him from behind. Hitting the gas, Molly sped off down the road, trying to throw his attention onto something, anything else. It wasn’t hard to fill his mind with thoughts of party decorations and the present that he had stored away for Jester – a brand new Tusk Love DVD – and how nice it would be to have Fjord over with them while they watched so that she would cuddle with Fjord for once and Molly could have Yasha as his own personal pillow.

The tour, he discovered upon arrival, was off. Cali, the nice lady who worked at the reception desk told him that he’d only just missed their call and that he was free to go home for the rest of the day. Molly stuck a hand into his pocket to pull out his phone, before remembering, as his fingers touched the smooth plastic, that his phone had accidentally been smashed the day before (did it count as an accident when a giant lolly-pop of radiant arcane energy had shattered it when it fell on the ground during a sparring session?) and was in for repairs. In the meantime, he was limited to an old flip phone without texting that didn’t even show the right date.

Forgoing the phone call, Molly hopped back on his bike and sped off to the bakery to pick up Jester’s birthday doughnuts.

When he got home, Yasha was already there, waiting for him.

“You’re home early,” his brow furrowed in confusion. Some days it seemed like Jester and Yasha were practically vampires, he saw them so rarely during the day.

“You are too, I see. They cancel the tour?”

“Yup.” He flipped the kickstand and swung his leg off. “What about you?”

“I got lucky and forgot that Bryce asked to switch shifts with me a while back. That cleared up my schedule for the day. I did a lot of the decorating already, Molly, but, remember I said that I was going to be clearing out my boxing room now that I am starting at the gym?”

Molly’s heart leapt and he nodded. “Well,” Yasha began. “I set it up for you to work on your projects, the way I said I would.”

“Really?” It seemed like his sewing room had been in the hall closet forever…which, well, it had been

“Go check it out.” She smiled at him indulgently and he clapped a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tight as he passed her on the way up the stairs.

The room was transformed. Formerly barren except for the practice mats that made falling a little less painful, the space now contained everything Molly needed to work on his projects, including a new wooden folding table that he could spread out for working on his quilt top. He stood facing out the window, feeling the joy well up within him.

“Gosh, Yash, this is…this is…incredible!” Molly spun around, arms spread wide and for a second he could have sworn that she was wiping tears from her eyes. “It might be Jester’s birthday, but I’m the one here who has to thank you for a present. And I don’t mean the room. You’re everything to me Yasha.”  

“You’re everything to me too, Molly.” And since when was Yasha so overly emotional, even with him? She was definitely crying, though she hid it well. Not wanting to make her feel self-conscious, Molly smiled slyly.

“Do you want to hear about this weird thing that happened to me today? I can tell you while we finish setting up for the party.” He asked, but to his surprise, she shook her head no.

“It’s all set, but I have to go out and clean the car. Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy? Until Jester and Fjord get here?”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Whatever you say, Yasha.”

He swept away from her, darting from here to there, rediscovering all of his things, pulling out bins and scouring for materials. With his back to Yasha, he did not notice how her face fell, how she sighed heavily or how sad she looked when she turned away and started back down the stairs.

Molly checked the wall clock just in time to notice that Jester was due to arrive with Fjord in only a few minutes. He finished up the backstitch on the garment he was making – a pastel rose colour vest with cream and orange accents in the piping – and hurriedly put away a few of his materials before the tell-tale sound of the door shutting and Jester’s raucous laughter beckoned him below. It was short work to make the decision to leave the rest of the picking up for later, as Molly looked around to see that he’d managed to just about completely destroy the space, fabric scraps everywhere and a heap of handmade patterns lumped over his box of pins on the ironing board.

“Yes. Later. Definitely later.” Conceding defeat, Molly unwound the measuring tape from where it hung about his neck and ran his hands through his hair, in and around his horns. He stopped only briefly to grab Jester’s present and then booked it down the steps, arms open wide.

“JESSIE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

“MOLLY!!! I LOVE YOU!!!” They collided into one another, Jester’s strong arms tightening too firmly around his middle. “Did you have a good day, Molly?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jester was excitable and always had been.

“I had a pretty alright day, thanks! Made all the better because Yasha cleared out the practice room and moved my sewing things in. Did you know anything about that?

“Maaaaay-be!” She smiled, clasping his upper arms in her hands and squeezing gently. “Now let’s move! I want my birthday donuts!”

From behind her blue whirling tornado-like form, Fjord raised up a hand and waved genially at Molly. “Hey, Molly.”

“Hey Fjord. How was work?”

“Jus’ fine. You?”

“Didn’t have any.”

“Ah, that’s lucky.”

So went most of Molly and Fjord’s interactions. Where Molly was volatile and as full of emotion as Jester, Fjord and Yasha were their counterpoints, mostly reserved, far more quiet and generally easy-going. Sometimes, Molly got the feeling that Fjord was putting on a show more than most, but he never pushed it. Jester’s feeling mattered too much and he didn’t want to spoil how good they were together by bringing it up, but he was keeping his eye open. While Molly understood the need to keep some things to oneself, he didn’t want Jester to get hurt in the long run.

Together they joined Jester and Yasha in the kitchen where the doughnuts were waiting. Jester was already halfway through one, mouth full and eyes glittering. “Dees urh doh goock!” She chewed through her words and Molly couldn’t help but smile. His friends were his family and he liked making them happy.

“Hey, let’s open your presents before you scarf down the rest of those, okay?” He prodded playfully.

“Yeah, okay, okay, okay. But Fjord already gave me my present,” she lifted a seductive brow at Fjord, who blushed a lot less than Molly anticipated. Usually the other man was very shy about his personal life with Jester, but maybe being around her so much was finally loosening him up. Dinner when quickly and Molly was anxious. Gift giving was his specialty. He enjoyed, more than almost anything, the thrill of handing a brightly wrapped package to its recipient, watching as the light in their eyes brightened at the sight of whatever was inside. It warmed his heart to see happiness on his friends faces, knowing that whatever it was he gifted them was something specially chosen for them, something that he knew they would love.

“Alright, it’s time for presents! Molly pulled the neatly wrapped rectangle out from behind his back, presenting it for her by waving it in front of her face. Though he was a little disappointed that she didn’t jump up and down to take it from him like she was usually wont to do, he smiled and she prim and properly slit the tape on the end.

“It’s just so pretty, Molly, I don’t want to ruin the wrapping,” she said, pulling the present from its package. “Ooo. Tusk Love! Thank you Molly!”

“We can watch it tonight, just for your Jessie, what’do you think?”

“Sure, Molly,” She smiled at him and he decided that maybe she was just tired, because it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll go put it in!” Jester hopped up and off her seat, rushing over as Yasha made to clear the plates.

“You and Jester go ahead, Molls, we’ll handle the dishes.” Fjord nodded at him, and Molly didn’t waste any time in bounding to the living room with Jester, capturing the comfy spot on the couch while she inserted the disc. Spreading out as far as his lithe limbs would allow, Molly lounged, waiting en pose for Jester to turn.

“Draw me like one of your Menagierian Tieflings, Jester!” he exclaimed, waggling his eyebrows in an overdrawn manner in mock seduction.

Jester laughed a little, a light twinkling sound, but it lacked its usual clarity. “Hey, Jessie, are you alright? Is something wrong?”

“Oh!” Her deep blue eyes grew wide as she turn to him. “No, Molly, I’m fine. It was just a very long, hot day at work today. That’s all. I guess I’m a little tired.”

“Too bad it had to be on your birthday.”

That time when she smiled, it was genuine. “Thank you, Molly, for always thinking of me. I love you very much and you’re the absolute best.” Jester, animatedly, shuffled across the carpet on her knees from where the DVD player was situated until she was face to face with Molly on the couch and threw her arms around his shoulders, pitching forward in the process.

Uncertain as to why, Molly felt tears prickling at his eyes. “No, Jester. You and Yasha are the best. You’re the only reason I’m me. The only reason I’m here. I owe you everything. Everything.”

“Okay, okay, okay that’s too sappy,” she complained, pulling away from him and wiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I’ve got to save some tears for this movie now, okay?”

“Whatever you say, Jester.”

To Molly’s delight, things worked out like he hoped. Yasha joined him on the couch and he got her all to himself as his personal pillow and general overall spaceheater, while Jester and Fjord cuddled together on the overlarge chair. The movie was half over and Molly – who hadn’t yet seen it, he’d been unable to make it to the theatre because it premiered during the busy months of his tour season – was rapt with attention. Unfortunately, Jester it, seemed, had fallen asleep rather quickly and soon, Yasha too was wafting soft breaths against his hair, leaving it to float gently and rhythmically up and down. Fjord began to snore, but Molly ignored them, thoroughly enjoying the movie. He understood – what Jester and Yasha did was long, hard work and often unforgiving. And this wasn’t Fjord’s type of movie, never mind that he’d probably been out on the fishing trawler in the bay all day long, working under the relentlessly hot sun.

By the time the film was over, most of them were awake again, giving hugs and goodnight cheek pecks. “Can you believe how that ended?” Molly asked as he headed towards the stairs. “I mean, I know you guys have seen that before, but I never thought Oskar had it in him to do that!”

“Yeah.”

“Wild.”

“Crazy, Molly.”

They were tired. It was alright if their enthusiasm didn’t quite match his. “Well, you guys get some sleep now, okay? I’m going to head up to bed. Love you!”

A chorus of ‘love you too’s met his ears and he grinned softly. He loved each and every one of them more and more every day. They were more than friends. They were the only family he’d ever known and he would be grateful to them until the day he died.

The moment they head Molly’s door close, they all sighed in relief, shoulders sagging, bodies slumping, postures slouching.

“Jessie, this can’t go on much longer,” Fjord said, removing the disc from the player and putting it back into the case before sliding it back into the wrapping and replacing the tape. “It’s been two years already and we were worn out after the first week.”

“But Fjord-“

“Molly _can’t_ know.” It was Yasha’s low, intimidating tones that cut Jester off. “Fjord, he’s fragile. The Doctors say-“

“We’re going to go nuts doing this any longer, Yasha. Jester and I have been married for a month already and believe me, I knew what I was getting into here, Molly’s my friend too, but we cannot put our own lives on hold forever. Yasha – look at you! You quit work at the coroner's for this. I know there’s things you want to do. We can’t – it’s _not_ healthy. This is not healthy.”

“Fjord, Molly doesn’t have anyone but us, you know that.” Jester stood beside his chair and hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his head as she did. “With the trauma already done to his brain from the first accident…oh Fjord, we _have_ to.”

He swiveled in the chair, turning to look up at her. “I just hate seeing you so sad, Jessie. Yasha, it’s not good for you either. I know that you love him – I do to – but he’s starting to notice that something’s wrong. And that’s not good for him either.”

Yasha’s face was a carefully blank mask as she pushed what remained of the doughnuts into the garbage. “Are you helping us tonight or not, Fjord?” she asked quietly.

As he always did, regardless of his personal beliefs on the matter, when he was able to (work permitting), Fjord helped. It was exhausting, thankless work to completely reset the world to match Molly’s expectations come the morning. In a digital age especially, some things were difficult. Fjord tended to help a lot in that regard, casting glamours that Molly couldn’t see through to help maintain the façade that digital calendars read only 6th of Sydenstar 1216, or that the neighbours house, which had been repainted, would be yellow still come the morning, lasting until Molly left for Caduceus’.

It was Jester who worked on dismantling Molly’s many creations and Yasha who spent time restocking anything that he’d used. It could be difficult sometimes, when Jester wasn’t able to use Mending on certain things, depending on what he’d done to it and Yasha would then spend the next morning running out to the fabric store in desperation, just in case Molly took fancy to that same fabric the next day. Sometimes, he chalked it up to his own flighty nature and others he’d spend hours hunting high and low to find the material he was _positive_ he’d just bought a few days before.

Sometimes, those days ended badly. Sometimes not.

Yasha had just finished resituating the kitchen when Jester came downstairs, holding up vest. “Oh Gods, Yasha, it’s so beautiful! I wish I didn’t have to take it apart. Do you have your phone on you? Mine died and I forgot to put it on the charger.”

Quickly, Yasha fumbled her phone from her pocket and snapped a photo, adding it to the folder labeled “Molly’s Creations”. All three of them had some variation of the folder on their phone, filled with the vibrant snapshots of every single garment he’d ever made, ever table runner that would never be used, every new pair of curtains for Jester’s bedroom, every new blanket for Yasha’s bed.

And then there was the quilt. He was maybe two fifths of the way through it when the accident happened and, while he didn’t work on it every day, some days, the only thing he did was add stitch after loving stitch to its surface. The pictures they took were extremely detailed so that they could always tell exactly what it was he’d added, exactly how much to remove. There was a tiny bit of hope, buried inside each of them, that someday Molly’s memory might return. Two years in, that hope seemed more faded than ever. It was most difficult of all to take apart the quilt when he worked on it, usually sending Jester to tears. Even Fjord helped with that on those days, painstakingly taking the seam ripper to Molly’s even, hand-sewn stitching. _“If it’s not hand sewn, then it’s not all that impressive, Yasha,”_ Molly had said once when he’d dragged her to a quilt expo. _“Anyone can programme a machine or enchant a needle. Real skill is in the manual action.”_

His coat was more than proof of that. Embroidery had always been Molly’s forte. When he was…new…and bored and still learning, it was beautiful things that drew him in. Patterns he could work with, as they were practical with pictures to guide him until he learned well enough that he could create his own, which hadn’t taken long.

Reading was another story, and a difficult one at that. It was just another thing that broke Yasha’s heart, how hard he’d been working to learn to read, only to be stagnated by the accident. While someone could learn new things even with such severe memory loss as Molly’s, the doctors had explained, he would never _know_ he’d learned them, and thus, likely never use them. So Molly was still functionally illiterate.

Two years of new hope and new dreams.

All lost.

“It is beautiful, Jester. Do you think you can handle taking it apart while Fjord and I deadhead, or do you need a break?”

“No, no. I’ve got it,” she insisted, though her voice wavered. “You and Fjord can handle the flowers.” With a sad smile, Jester hugged the vest to her and started back up the stairs before turning and stopping at the bottom, one hand on the balustrade. “Hey, Yasha? Did you notice anything different about Molly today?”

“Oh.” Yasha scratched her head. “Um. No. I didn’t particularly. Why? Has something happened?”

“Well I was just wondering, because you know how we told Caduceus to call us if anything was ever weird with Molly?”

“Yes?”

Jester bit her lip. “Well he called me the other day and asked me if Molly had a job, because he said something to Caduceus about going to work. I mean, I know that outside factors can change his behaviour patterns, the doctors told us about that, but I just wanted to be sure.”

“What did you tell Caduceus?” They hadn’t said anything to him, initially. The proprietor of Molly’s favourite café wasn’t someone they’d figured they’d have to worry about. He wasn’t exactly a friend so much as an acquaintance. Jester had met him in college in one of her courses on medicinal herbology (which explained _a lot_ about Caduceus) and they were hoping to avoid any attention on Molly if possible. Caduceus didn’t ask questions. He just seemed to know things, or not know them, as the case may have been. So, the fact that Caduceus had called when he hadn’t once in two years, was significant.

“I ended up telling him everything.” She winced a bit as she said it. “I wasn’t really sure what to do, you know, and I thought, that if Deuces was asking something, I should probably just explain because you know how he is…”

Yasha only shrugged.

“Anyways, I was just curious. He didn’t call me at all today so whatever it was must have been over with.”

“I’ll let you know if I notice anything tomorrow then.”

As Jester made her way upstairs, Yasha put a hand to her face, rubbing her eyes wearily. Two years. Fjord opened the door to garage, peeking his head around the corner. “Hey Yash, Jester upstairs?”

“Yes.”

“You ready? Molly’s bike is set and I got out the buckets and clippers.”

Inside, Yasha felt her heart sink. They were a well oiled machine, too good at what they did at night, but their responses were growing stale when Molly was around. “I’m sorry, Fjord.”

“It’s alright, Yasha. I know you mean well.”

“Sometimes,” she considered as she moved towards him, taking the nippers from his hand. “Sometimes I’m afraid you might be right.”

“You can’t do that to yourself. This is an impossible situation.”

Turning her face away from Fjord, Yasha pulled open a toolbox, haphazardly looking through the drawer, but searching for nothing in particular. “You should be able to go on your honeymoon. I should - I should just take a few days off from the gym and stay home with him every day while you and Jester get in your vacation. You need a break. Jester...she’s running out of steam.”

Behind her, Yasha heard Fjord sigh heavily. “I know. And I don’t have to tell you that I’m also burnin’ out. But what else are we going to do?”

A hot tear escaped the corner of Yasha’s eye. “He’s so full of life and promise, Fjord. I don’t want to take that away from him, but he’s on pause. I want him to be happy and he seems so happy, every day, working in his sewing room. He’ll never know any better, but I can’t help but wonder if we’re holding him back somehow? If he could live a more fulfilling life?” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Fjord, I don’t know anymore.”

On her shoulder, Yasha felt Fjord’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s go make the flowers nice for Molly.”

“Okay.”

And out into the dark they went.

 


	4. 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my American readers, Happy Thanksgiving.

3.

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”

_ ~  _ Beryl Markham _ , West with the Night _

“Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”

~ Haruki Murakami _ , Kafka on the Shore _

 

**_The Fourth Date: The Power of Books_ **

The walk to  _ The Wicked Green _ the next day was a block by block debate. With the Zoo in the same general direction, Caleb knew that he would have to whole walk to argue with himself over what do to, over how to proceed. The previous night was difficult. He refused to come out of his room when Nott came home and Beau had to pry her away from the door as she made short work of the lock; it wouldn’t have mattered however, because he’d jammed the single, rickety wooden chair underneath the handle of the door. Only Beau could have broken it down, but thankfully she understood that Nott’s mothering tendencies could get to be too much. Caleb found her curled up outside his bedroom door the next morning and he did pick her up and put her in her own room before leaving for the morning, feeling a little bad that he’d stonewalled her when she had only the best of intentions. If Beau had said anything, Caleb didn’t know, but he was grateful for the time she’d provided him.

He needed the space and the time to think.

Ultimately, it did him little good.

Even as he rounded the corner and onto the street where Caduceus’ shop was situated, he was still holding his internal argument. What did he want from these interactions? Companionship? Caleb had felt flattered, warm at the considerate and continued attentions of someone more than passably attractive, someone most would consider a ‘10’, according to what he had heard Beau saying in the past. Or maybe even an ‘11’. In addition to being genuinely beautiful, Mollymauk’s look was curated, his manner was affable and he was a decent conversationalist. Someone worth the time and effort to get to know. Anyone would be flattered to be noticed by him, to have garnered his interest, including Caleb. But to pursue continued interaction with a person who would only forget him the next day was the very definition of insanity, something with which Caleb had more than a passing familiarity.

Somehow, that didn’t negate the feelings. And Caleb had many, many feelings. Not that he’d fully admitted it to himself.

The one feeling that kept him up the night before was the realization that it wasn’t just a one sided attraction. Caleb liked Molly too; it was an unavoidable fact in the long run. The more Caleb analyzed his reasoning when he agreed to the date, the more he realized that it wasn’t just that he’d been caught off guard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent three hours in conversation with anyone other than Nott of Beau, and that was with breaks in between. Sitting with Molly, whose laidback but attentive nature made it easy for Caleb to relax, to lose track of time and everything else. It had been so long since he’d felt that level of comfort with another person, and none so immediately as Mollymauk.

The one feeling that was keeping him from walking any further down the block was the fear that he would be taking advantage of Molly if he did. And that was putting aside the possibility of grave danger. He’d mostly talked himself out of that one. He was outside the Empire, he’d already been free from Ikithon for years. Surely a decade free of his influence was enough to put distance between them! It wasn’t likely to be an issue. And Molly would remain safe by virtue of his ignorance. He would be absolutely useless to anyone who came looking for Caleb, and, outside the Empire, they wouldn’t want to go making unnecessary corpses. Despite the rationale, the paranoia did not lessen, but he’d pushed it aside.

It wasn’t as if he was going to stay anyways. Mollymauk would be good company and good practice, and, in the long run, it would hurt no one.

“You might as well see what happens today,” he murmured under his breath in encouragement. “A litmus test. If he approaches you today, then we will go with Beau’s plan. Ja. Okay. That’s good. We can do that.”

Caleb took the plunge, pushing the door open so that the mobile chimed as he entered.

Inside  _ The Wicked Green _ , the soft morning light that streamed in through the open windows and filtered through the overgrown leaves that covered the walls and clung around the sills left the room bathed in a lime green sheen. The overpowering musk of sun-warmed vegetation, welcomed Caleb as always, tinged by the mingling spices of various teas. Caduceus Clay looked up from sorting his tea, eyes widening in brief alarm, but one look exchanged allowed Caleb to convey that there would be no trouble. He could see Mollymauk eating the same identical breakfast as before, a steaming cup and saucer of tea next to him. Caleb simply made his way over to a chair within visual range, opened his book and waited. When Caduceus finished his chore, he found Caleb in the favoured seat and looked at him curiously.

“What’re you here for then?” It was obvious that the question was twofold. Though Caduceus claimed not to know Molly that well, it was obvious that he was concerned for the man.  _ And who wouldn’t be? It is a dangerous world to live in for someone without a memory. _

“To read and for tea,” he answered in short order. “Today I think I will take something cooler. An iced lemon, if possible. The humidity is stifling outside.” Indeed, in the extreme heat the scent of fresh, thriving vegetation within the Tea Shop was cloying.

“No problem. And, uh, we’re cool after yesterday?”

“Ja. We are cool. I was, um, thrown. I apologize.”

“No problem. I’ll be back with your tea.” Caduceus nodded with a sense of finality and said no more, leaving Caleb to his books. A spare few minutes passed as his tea steeped. When Caduceus finally returned, he sat down in the chair across from Caleb.

“You’re waiting for him to make a move, aren’t you?”

“Ah…” Caleb stammered, looking anywhere but Caduceus’ all-seeing eyes.

“Look, if you’ve got questions yet, maybe I can answer them.” Before leaning it, Caduceus glanced back over his shoulder to check that Molly was preoccupied and then nodded to Caleb.

“He…he will not get better?”

“Not a chance, from what I understand. Never once seen him deviate from the usual routine.”

Caleb blinked rapidly several times, processing the information. It was good to no longer be working on assumptions. “And his friends, they…you…you do not tell him…ever?”

Caduceus shook his head. “Yeah. Not a thing. They try to make his day as smooth and enjoyable as possible. See, the day he’s reliving? It was his friend’s birthday. The sixth of Sydenstar two year back.”

“Oh. But, ah, is this not lying? Do you not feel bad?” Caleb tried to imagine what it would take, day after day, to accomplish such a thing and found he could not imagine it, or rather, that he could, but it was likely far from the reality.

Caduceus sighed heavily and it looked to Caleb that he was deeply considering his answer. “To him it’s real, though. She explained some things to me…the truth…it’s bad. It doesn’t go over well and well… I guess they don’t see the point in making him unhappy when they can try to preserve something good.” Caduceus looked down at Caleb’s tea, his ears drooping. “Makes me sad. It’s a disability of its own, just not one you can see right away.”

“No new friendships.” A pause. A shake of the head. “No new skills.”

“No.” A flick of Clay’s tail. “Never.”

“Oh. That is sad.” With the reality of it spread before him so plainly, Caleb felt even worse.

Pushing back on the edge of the side table to edge his chair back, Caduceus stood. “Well. Now you know.” And then he walked away.

For a while, Caleb simply sat with his ice tea, considering everything he’d been told. Though he opened his book up once more, he was hardly able to read, too wrapped up in the thoughts that had plagued him endlessly since the day before. It was not long before he noticed the shadow of a person grow in his peripheral vision.

Mollymauk.

The tiefling was standing not far away, perusing the shelves aimlessly, throwing a glance Caleb’s way ever so often. It was almost endearing and left Caleb to wonder what it had been the day before that turned Molly off so much. He was wearing the exact same outfit as he had the previous days, though he had his jacket on this time and his hair was styled just slightly different, the curls more pronounced, perhaps as the result of the humidity, but still sleek as ever, like fine plum coloured silk strands.

A few minutes passed as Molly edged his way ever closer, Caleb’s heart speeding up with each movement.

“Um, excuse me?” Molly’s voice wasn’t quite as even, wavering a bit, as though with nerves.

“Ah, me?” Caleb asked, just to be sure, just because it seemed like the thing to say.

“Yeah. Um. You look like you like to read.”

Caleb started to disguise a smile and then stopped, allowing it to form naturally. “Ja. I do. Like to read, that is.” A tentative beginning, but still a beginning. Trepidatious, he closed the book and watched Mollymauk intently.

One sharp, elongated canine worried at Mollymauk’s lower lip. As he did (and much to Caleb’s surprise) a genuine flash of embarrassment crossed his beautiful face. At Molly’s blush, Caleb went red, as he caught himself in the act of admiring the tiefling. He tried to hide it, but it wouldn’t have mattered, as Mollymauk seemed quite preoccupied with whatever it was he was considering saying.

“I…I come in here most mornings, if I can, generally because I like the food and the tea, but I’m also here to guilt myself. I – please don’t laugh – I can’t read. And I come here and I look at all the lovely, beautiful books on the shelves and stunning people like yourself reading in their comfy chairs and I wish it was me and I keep pushing myself to learn but it’s hard and I just…give up.”

To say that Caleb was shocked was an understatement. A severe understatement. Owlishly, he blinked. “You cannot read?”

“Well I  _ can _ ,” began Molly, “but it’s arduous. My vocabulary is great by the way, I just…words on pages are difficult. I’m functionally illiterate. Basic things, sure. Street signs are hit or miss to be honest. But books, with whole worlds in them? Impossible. I envy you.” Between his restless fingers, Molly twisted the zipper of his coat, the last admission obviously more than he’d meant to have said, but he looked up at Caleb from beneath his long, dark lashes anyways, nervous. “Sure, there’s audiobooks, but I see you reading here, cocooned in your own world, the voice in your head bringing everything to life… I want that. I want to go places just in the landscape of my mind, you know? And all I get is frustrated.”

“I am…I am sorry.” Caleb stammered, genuinely uncertain what to do. It was about the last thing he’d anticipated to hear when Molly approached him and his mind was racing.

Molly took his response to heart. “Gods, here I am just complaining like some sad sack of shit.” He put his hand up to his head, running his fingers back through his curls, curving to avoid his horns. “What I really came over here for was to ask if you had any book recommendations for me? Something I could put on a list, something to help motivate me? And I haven’t seen you in here before, so I thought maybe you could give me something fresh. Tell me about your favourite book, if you, ah, if you’d like?”

“I am sorry, I do not mean to offend but…you are being genuine, ja?” Caleb liked to think he could tell a good act from genuine sentiments, but with Mollymauk, Caleb wasn’t so sure. He thought back to their interactions the preceding days, Molly clutching a book to his chest, stammering over the title.

Though Molly gave a jovial grin, his eyes did not match the smile. “Unfortunately, I am actually telling the truth. Probably not the best lead in to asking if I could sit here with you, is it? Not…” Molly’s expression flickered and then the smile was back in full force. “Not terribly attractive in a person, is it?”

“I do not mind. You are- you” Mind racing and flustered by Molly’s insinuations, Caleb couldn’t make the words come and changed direction in a spectacular hurry. “You wish to sit here?”  _ Perhaps yesterday was a fluke. Perhaps he really does desire my company…but I should not- _

“Well, if you want me to go-“ Molly turned to leave, but Caleb stood, surprising himself as he grabbed the sleeve of Molly’s coat.

“No, ah, please, sit.” He quickly pulled a seat over. “Here, please, and I will…I will work with you, ja? I had to learn to read Common too, you know, because my first language is Zemnian and Common is a shit language – it has stupid rules, ja? You- you are  _ very _ \- ah, you are…I do not think you are unattractive.”  _ What a mess you have made of that! _

A hopeful look blossomed on Molly’s face, from stunned happiness to a beaming smile. “Thank you.” He seemed pleased. “Look, I was just, um, I mean I really do feel like I said about wanting to read and everything, but I’m not really sure how much I could learn in a day, can you just…can you just tell me about what it’s like?”

“You are not looking for a lesson.” Caleb confirmed, deadpan.

“Well I wouldn’t be opposed to one. I was…I like your accent.” It was the first time Molly had ever mumbled in his presence. Even when he tripped over his words they were always clear and confident. A violet glow set in on the apples of his high cheekbones. “Sorry, that’s a bit…yeah. Anyways, maybe it’s forward, but you’re – well you just looked like someone who could use some company and with whom I wouldn’t mind spending some time.”

Despite fighting his body’s natural reaction, Caleb couldn’t help but blush.

“Ah well, um. That’s nice. Um. Ja. I am Caleb Widogast.”  _ You are being ridiculous. He has been flirting with you for a few days now, and he is still flirting with you now, you should already be used to this now that you know it is for real.Why are you being like this? _

“And I’m Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends. Pleasure to meet you, Caleb Widogast.”

Molly stuck out his hand and Caleb looked on at the finely filed talons. Reaching out, he clasped Molly’s hand in his own, the searing heat of a tiefling palm unfamiliar against his skin. The moment their hands clasped, Caleb felt the charge, a static shock tingling up from his hand through his arm and straight to his chest. The touch lingered; Mollymauk was looking at the place where their hands touched, entranced, and Caleb felt his heart leap into his throat.  _ You are being ridiculous. He will not remember any of this tomorrow. Do not. Do not let yourself feel. He is just practice. Nothing can come of this. There must not be emotion. Stop this. Jetzt. _

Caleb did not stop.

He did not stop even when he let go of Molly’s hand. He did not stop when he went to the shelf and pulled out  _ The Wind in the Willows _ , and he did not stop when he sat down next to Molly and began to read aloud, encouraging Molly to try a few sentences here and there and guiding him when he struggled.

He did not stop, because the first day that Molly approached him, he had pretended to know how to read to impress Caleb.

He did not stop, even though it was pointless in attempting to teach him, because Molly truly desired to learn.

He did not stop because the heat of Molly’s ruby gaze and the lines of concentration on his smooth forehead showed just how much Molly cared.

He did not stop because everyone should know how to read.

He did not stop because he liked the warmth of Molly’s presence beside him.

He did not stop because he did not want to.

 

The conversation eventually strayed from reading to other topics and Caleb found himself entranced by the passion in Molly’s voice as he talked about his sewing and in particular, his quilt. Molly seemed to have something to say about everything and questions galore for Caleb too. For once, Caleb didn’t feel the need to spend all his time talking about the cats, as Molly had  _ so much  _ that he wanted to you, even though Molly seemed interested in Caleb’s favoured topic of conversation. One thing was certain – regardless of how often they met, Caleb would  _ always _ have a captive audience for his knowledge on cats, as much of their conversation from the first time the Molly had approached him was repeated to the exact same level of excitement before Caleb turned the conversation in Molly’s direction and he found that he really, genuinely wanted to know everything there was to know about Mollymauk Tealeaf.

“No, please, I am very interested in hearing about it,” he pushed when Molly seemed to stall at talking about his work.

Molly pushed his hand through his hair again, a movement that Caleb was starting to suspect may have been a nervous tick. It was endearing that someone so seemingly self-confident could still get nervous, though why it was Caleb who managed to engender such an emotion was beyond him to understand.

“It’s not what I really want to be doing. It’s just temporary.” Throwing his hands back behind his head and sprawling in the chair like a cat in the sun, Molly looked up to the ceiling. “I enjoy it though, showing people around the city. Most of them aren’t really into it but some have genuine interest. It’s nice to give them a living tour of Nicodranas. You’re a transplant, obviously, if you don’t mind my saying. You must understand what it’s like to have your normal ‘and this is the Starosta’s Office and this is the Temple to Melora’ tour, but living tours are just so much more…” he stalled searching for a word. “I don’t know. There’s just something about showing people the true life of the city that’s more meaningful. I’m a transplant too, and while the history is alright, it’s the people who make a place, you know?”

Breathless and internally shocked at his own reactions, Caleb only nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from Molly. His crop top was riding up as he stretch in the chair, revealing taut, sinewy muscle and a lavender strip of soft skin. Suddenly, Caleb realized that Molly wasn’t looking at the ceiling anymore but directly at him, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Caleb gulped. He’d been around enough big cats to recognize when he was being eyed like breakfast. And lunch. And dinner, too.

“That sounds…like a worthy job,” he just barely recovered in time to eke out. “But what is it that you really want to do?”

“Travel. I want to  _ be _ the people taking the tours, not the person giving them. I want to go  _ everywhere _ and see  _ everything _ .” There was a wistful measure to Molly’s lilting voice and Caleb felt such an aching sadness at the statement.

Molly could go everywhere and see everything, but he would never know that he’d done so.

_ Gods, what are you doing _ ? He asked his wildly thumping heart.  _ What the fuck is wrong with you? You're so stupid stop that. _

“Is something wrong?” Looking at Caleb with concern, Molly had righted himself in the seat and was leaning forward now. “You looked for a minute like someone kicked your cat.”

“Ah, well that has really happened before and it is not fun. I have to get a lot of incense just to get him back when that happens.”

“Wait.” Almost comically, Molly’s eyes widened. “You’re a wizard? You didn’t say anything! That’s awesome!”

And just like that, Caleb’s moment of weakness was past as he regained control over himself and the conversation continued on. Another three hour breakfast date rolled to a close with Caleb feeling mortified by the number of times he had been distracted during their talk, simply because Molly had laughed or Molly had smiled and oh, but that time that he had realized that Molly had  _ dimples _ .

His heart teetering dangerously on the edge, Caleb stood when he noticed Clay looking over at them curiously. “I, ah, have enjoyed our intercourse, but I have to be going, unfortunately.”

Mollymauk’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and, mentally, Caleb went back over the sentence, trying to gauge just what it was he had said that deserved such a response, but came up blank.

“I had a great time too in, um,  _ intercourse _ , with you, Caleb, I’m sad to see you go. Really, I should be leaving too, but, all the same.”

“Ja. Well. Nice to meet you.”

Molly stood too, and though they were a ways apart, it still felt far too close, far too intimate. A long, pregnant pause was all that separated them and it was  _ too much _ and  _ too fast _ and so Caleb did what Caleb always did. He nodded curtly with a polite smile, put his book under his arm and left.

From behind him, he heard Molly call. “That’s it?” Stopping in his tracks, Caleb turned and saw Molly, arms out in question. “We have a three hour conversation, you  _ teach me to read _ and that’s it?”

Tongue-tied, Caleb just stood there, dumbly.

“I’m usually pretty good at reading this sort of thing and I thought you were into me, but if you’re not, and I came on too strong, I’m sorry, really.” Molly suddenly looked as though he were reevaluating everything that had happened in the last three hours and Caleb felt  _ shame _ .  _ Deep  _ shame. “Yeah. I-“ Molly seemed flustered then, more than anything else, a deep violet creeping up his cheeks. “You know what, I have to go too.” He said and brushed past, leaving Caleb gawking and flushed with embarrassment.

“Scheiße” He spat, walking out after Molly quickly, only to see him speeding off on the motorcycle. Without waiting for his mind to change, Caleb quickly hailed a cab and, in a move that felt a little too much like a clichéd film, instructed him to follow the motorcycle.

Caduceus Clay, from inside his shop, watched with all seeing eyes, dialing a number on the phone as he did.

“Ah, hey there, Jester. It’s Caduceus Clay…”

* * *

When Caleb got out of the cab in front of the charming rowhouse there was someone unfamiliar waiting for him, and Caleb knew immediately that Caduceus must have called one of Molly’s friends. The woman was not quite his height, but far, far more imposing. Pale and buff, with long gradient locks braided and dreaded in various bundles, she looked like she could (and would) easily snap him in half.

“I came to apologize to Mister Mollymauk, if I may.”

“I don’t think so.” She replied, her voice soft and dangerous. “You’re Caleb Widogast. And we’re going to have a talk. Right now. Molly is inside. Come with me.”

Unquestioningly, Caleb followed the woman down the block and around the corner into the alleyway. Another tiefling was waiting there, just getting out of her car. She was blue and her eyes were as angry as the mean set of her mouth.

“Is this the guy who’s been fucking with Molly’s heart? I’m gonna  _ crush _ you!”

Acutely, Caleb felt like prey again, only for a very different sort of predator. The short tiefling woman flexed her not inconsiderable muscles and Caleb suddenly had a very accurate picture of the relationship dynamics here. He’d encroached on the nest and the protective mothers had come flying in to protect. Momentarily, he was reminded of Nott and felt even worse. This had been a bad idea. A terrible, disgusting, awful, soulless idea. It was no wonder he had followed through with it.

“Listen.” The imposing woman said, turning away from her furious friend. Her calm demeanor was far more terrifying than that of the blue tiefling. “Stay away from Mollymauk.”

“Ja. Absolutely. I-I should never have…”he trailed away and regrouped. “I wish to apologize so that at least, he has a better day today.”

The tiefling woman rushed up to him, shaking her fist. “You know I would have a  _ lot _ better of a day if my fist met your face!” Her accent was thick and her height was amusing, considering how she was threatening him, but Caleb kept a straight face because he knew she absolutely meant every word.

Especially when her fist met his jaw.

Stunned, Caleb worked it with his hand, spitting a tiny globule of blood to the cracked asphalt.

“Jester.” The first woman shook her head rapidly and the tiefling, evidently Jester frowned, disgruntled but put down her fists.

“You’ve ruined his day.” She looked almost on the verge of tears. “You’ve ruined his day and why? You know he won’t remember you why would you do that to him? We-we-we try  _ sooo _ hard to make ev-ery day sp-spe-cial!” Jester was crying. She let her face fall into her hands and began to sob, while the larger woman patted her on the back awkwardly.

“So Caduceus has led me to understand. I really am sorry. You are-I can tell that he is well loved. I should not have done what I did but he…and I…we…” Caleb passed a hand over his face. “Ach so, it does not matter.”

The pale woman was watching him carefully. “This is the third day you’ve seen Molly.”

“Ja. Well – fourth. He saw me but we did not speak.”

“Caduceus told you about what happened to him? About his condition?” The accusatory gleam in her eye left Caleb feeling even worse. “but you still talked to him.”

“Ah, one correction.” He lifted a finger. “It was your Mollymauk who talked with me.”

“Still. You encouraged him.” Already, Caleb could see that there would be no relenting and he gathered his courage against the two women, but Jester’s next words surprised him.

“Pfft,” she scoffed as her bought of tears subsided, sniffling still. “Like it takes a lot to encourage Molly. He’s Molly, Yasha.”

‘Yasha’ did not budge. “You encouraged him. You know that he cannot have a normal relationship. What kind of person does that?”

_ A shitty one.  _ “I was not looking to harm him, or…or…take advantage. He is…” Caleb had no clue what to do or say. Everything seemed to only make it worse. And just maybe, he deserved their ire.

“He will  _ never _ remember you. Never.” Tone flat and final, Yasha’s stare bored a hole into his head.

“I understand that.”  _ What are you doing here, why are you doing this, you are stupid, you are stupid, this is Beauregard’s fault and now I-  _ “I do not want to hurt him. I want to apologize. I…I-“  _ Stop stop stop.  _ “I like him. I-”

“Anything with Molly is one night only, don’t you get that?” Jester, that time, was the one to speak up. “And we would never, ever, never, ever, ever let you.”

“Go home, now. Please.” Yasha said, her request phrased as an order, and he took it to be one. “Just let him be. Stay away from him.”

“And stay away from  _ The Wicked Green _ , okay? Or like, we don’t want to, you know, put Caduceus out of business. Just don’t go there until after one, okay? Can you promise that?”

“I-“

Yasha dropped her hand from Caleb’s shoulder and she seemed to shrink, her whole posture withering in on itself. “Molly’s been through enough,” she said as her eyes closed, squeezing tight and she shuddered, leaving Caleb to wonder just exactly what it was to which she was referring.

He walked home.

Yasha and Jester had watched him leave from the alley, though he was almost positive he’d heard Jester break into tears a second time. On the way, he contemplated the situation. Mollymauk lived in a microcosm, a miniature ecosystem of interpersonal relationships and looping interactions, and the introduction of an outside factor was the single most dangerous occurrence; either volatile, deadly, or both, the combination was liable to result in casualties of some kind. Physical or mental.

And it was Caleb himself who was the outside factor, destroying Mollymauk’s habitat visit by visit.

Nott was waiting for him when he got back, arms crossed firmly, a penetrating look on her face. “What happened.”

It wasn’t a question.

“A lot.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet. But I will.”

“Okay.” She paused, waited. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. “Caleb, you know that whatever happens, I’m here for you, right?”

“Ja. I know.”

“Good. I just wanted you to know that.” And with that, she hugged around his legs tightly and then let him go.

The walk had been sweltering. Caleb peeled the shirt off his back and rolled his pants off, the clothing slick with sweat and found his way beneath the spray of the showerhead, cool and refreshing. It cleared his head to feel the chill touch of the water on his back.

Closing his eyes and lifting his face to the spray, Caleb couldn’t help but see the flashing hurt in the scarlet of Molly’s gaze against the beating black of his eyelids. It was stupid. Four days since the first time they’d seen one another and Caleb couldn’t get Molly out of his head. When he got out of the shower, Caleb was going to have  _ words _ with Beauregard. But it wasn’t her fault and he knew that, pushing down the bitter brine of bile in his throat as he thought of the consequences of directing his sentiment at people.

Nothing had happened to Nott. Surely it was fine.

Nothing had happened.

Yet.

When he pushed a hand back through his hair, Caleb was instantly reminded of Molly’s same habit from earlier that day. He bit out a curse, shut off the water and briefly toweled himself off before dressing and charging from his and Nott’s rooms, into the hall and down the steps.

Without a care, he hammered his fist on Beau’s door.

“Beauregard, I know you are in there, and we need to talk. Jetzt.”

The door flew open and Caleb almost fell through. “Sup?”

“You’re plan was bullscheiße and I need better advice.” He pushed past her and into the room, taking up the same spot on her lone kitchen chair.

“Dude, I give shit advice. You want good advice, go talk to Caduceus Clay. He make look like a stoner and sound like a stoner, but he’s no duck.”

Caleb rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Even I know that you are mixing your metaphors and I am Zemnian. Ja, you are probably right. But I need to talk to you.”

Beau sat on the table instead of the counter that time. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“I… _ scheiße. _ I like him Beau.”

“Who,” She started to kick her legs. “the tiefling dude?”

“Ja.”

Only Beauregard would have the gall to laugh at him in such a moment. She laughed so hard she snorted. “Come on, Caleb. He was supposed to be practice. You’re leaving! Fuck!”

Unamused, he glowered at her. “You think I don’t know that?” The whole thing was getting to be a real mess. “I – Beau, if you were told to stay away from a girl you really liked, that you could not see her. What would you do?”

“I mean,” she shrugged. “that’s loosely interpretable, right? So long as you keep your eyes closed, if you get my drift…”

Hesitantly, Caleb nodded.

“Caleb?”

“Ja, Beau?”

“Did you –“ she snorted again adorably. Caleb thought the word precisely because he knew that Beau would hate it. He thought it directly into her head. “Did you catch feelings?”

Scowling, he stood. “If you cannot take this seriously, then I will go away.”

She sobered a bit, but Caleb couldn’t be bothered to feel bad about it; he was already feeling bad about too much else. For a while they just sat in silence, and Caleb was reminded why he liked Beau. Though she could be bitchy and tough and harsh, she was also a sympathetic ear in a way that Nott wasn’t. She never coddled him.

“You really like this guy, huh?” The question, when it came, was not asked in a teasing manner, but a serious one. “You wanna tell me about it?”

Caleb thought of Molly’s laugh, of Molly’s hand in his, of the embarrassment in Molly’s eyes when he had walked away. “He likes me. And ja, I like him. It is easy to like him.” Gods, he was fucked. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Well, Caleb.” One of Beau’s feet flew out and caught him hard in the shoulder. “You’re flirting with a guy who won’t remember you the next day and the more you learn about him, the easier it will be.”

“Ha!” His laugh was less amused than pained. “That does not seem to be a problem. He is already interested, though I do not understand why. And I just sit there and whenever he-“

All movement from Beau ceased. “Caleb?”

“Ja, Beauregard?”

“Dude, I think you’re falling in love with this guy.”

“Nein.” His response was adamant. “That is not possible. That  _ cannot _ happen.”

“Caleb, I think it already has.”

As he stood to leave, Beau called back to him. “Hey, Caleb? Don’t overthink it, alright?”

“Alright,” he lied and stepped out the door.

When he returned to his own apartment, he only wished it could have been to comfort, but much like Beau’s space, his and Nott’s too was still stifling. It didn’t help that his emotions left him feeling much the same way. Only yesterday, Beau’s suggestions had seemed so logical. Today, after the debacle at  _ The Wicked Green _ , they only felt foolish. Caleb wanted to open up his chest and remove his heart and, like a clockmaker, remove all the misplaced gears that made his heart so faulty, so prone to catching and halting and stopping at the slightest emotion, so prone to  _ sentiment _ , so that he ran smooth and cool, not warm and shaky.

“Did you take your frustrations out on Beau?” Nott asked from where she was standing by the stove, her mage hand stirring a pot of what may have been gumbo. She’d been on a cooking kick recently.

Shrugging, Caleb replied, “Something like that.”

“Ready to tell me what’s all been going on?”

“I was foolish.” Caleb bit out. “Yesterday, Mollymauk did not remember who I was. He has a memory condition from a terrible accident and cannot make new memories due to the trauma.”

“Hmmm.” Nott hummed to herself, nodding as she listened.

Immediately, Caleb understood. “Beauregard told you, didn’t she?”

Nott looked guiltily at the floor, twisting the end of her shit in front of her. “I was worried, Caleb. You were a mess yesterday and then you wouldn’t talk to me! I was ready to go down to the shop and kick the living shit out of that tiefling!”

Imagining Nott doing so brought a faint smile to Caleb’s lips. So overprotective. “That, I believe.”

“I’m sorry you liked a boy who can’t remember liking you.” Trusting her magehand to do the work, Nott made her way over to Caleb and clambered up onto the stood beside the table, and indicated to him that he should sit. “Tell me about today, though? What happened today?”

“He keeps approaching me. When I do not initiate, he is always finding a way into my space and speaking with me. I do not mean to like him, Nott, but he’s just so…” Caleb sighed. “I do not mean to like him, but I do. I cannot afford to. Nott, there is the expedition and there are so, so many other things that-“

“No. Stop that, Caleb. Look at me.” Her tone was demanding and persistent and eventually, Caleb gave in to her, looking up from the intriguing patterns of the wood grain on the table. “You’ve been talking about this expedition for as long as I’ve known you. And you’ve been thinking about it for longer than that. How long, Caleb? How many years have you dreamed of this?”

“Many.” His voice was rough as he thought back to the first time he imagined setting out, finding himself on an empty plain, surrounded by the large predators. Of course, back then, he had imagined that Ikithon was behind him and had set the big cats on him and watched as he was torn to pieces. That portion of the dream was less and less prominent these days.

“Sometimes, dreams have to wait until they’re ready to happen. Sometimes, other things need to happen first.”

And when had Nott gotten to be so wise?

“You are suggesting that this is not a roadblock but a pathway?”

“I’m suggesting,” Nott looked at him hard, “that you are being overdramatic. Now. Tell me, what kind of life is it where this tiefling gets up every day none the wiser that he did the same thing the day before? Sure, he’s happy. He doesn’t know any better. But he could have  _ more _ . He could be happi _ er _ than he is. He likes you Caleb! And I don’t think that indulging him and yourself as a result is taking advantage of that. I think it’s letting him be happier than just  _ happy _ for a day. Just because he won’t remember it, doesn’t mean that it isn’t meaningful when it happens.”

Immediately Caleb was reminded of himself. It wasn’t an equivalent comparison, not by half. What Ikithon had done to him was  _ terrible _ and Molly’s friends were only trying to help him. They loved him, really, desperately loved him and were only doing their best. But Caleb couldn’t help but compare the situations. Ikithon had kept them all a measure of ‘happy’, placating them with power and feeding their hearts with lies so that they would stay complacent and measured, trapped by the desire to please him in return, to keep him happy so that their own could continue. That had not been real happiness. Caleb knew that well. The world had come crashing down around him and for a long, long time he had been certain that he would never be happy again. Much had changed since then, but at Nott’s words, her calm rationale, Caleb felt a kinship with Molly, a sudden spike in his heart much stronger than even the stirrings of allure from before.

“Caleb?” Nott prodded, and he realized that he had been silently contemplating her words for some time.

“You are right. You are right. If he can be happier because of me, even if only for a day, then it is worth my while. But it is not for me, it is for him, and I must remember that. I did not consider than today and I-“ Looking away, Caleb hung his head. “I am ashamed. And I will not a get a chance to apologize. It does not make it better to know that he will not remember tomorrow that I slighted him today.”

“But you  _ could _ try to make up for it tomorrow.” The upward lilt at the end of her sentence made Caleb cautious.

“No. No, no. I know that tone of voice. Don’t get any ideas in your head-“ Caleb tried to warn her off, but she was already pulling out a wire, pointing to where she knew Beau’s apartment to be.

“Beauregard! Get up here so we can scheme a bit for Caleb, okay?” Caleb made a swipe for the wire, but she darted causally out of the way, nimble as ever. “Oh and youcanreplytothismessage!”

“Nott!” Caleb groaned as he heard what was assuredly Beau’s door slam on the floor below them and her quick steps pounding up the stairs. The door was, thankfully, unlocked, or Beau would probably have busted the lock as she rather forcefully opened the door.

“Hey, you get this asshole to admit that he’s got feelings yet?” She jammed her thumb in Caleb’s general direction.

“He’s a work in progress.” Nott mused as she returned to her gumbo, and, finding it satisfactory, directed her mage hand to dish it out. “Let’s eat and talk.”

 

**_The Fifth “Date”: Sorry, I Don’t Speak Common_ **

Nervously, Caleb walked up to the booth where Molly sat. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do. He couldn’t believe at  _ all _ that he had somehow managed to let Nott and Beau talk him into it. The previous day had been spent planning all manner of ridiculous things to do. The plan, as it stood by the end of the night, had had very little to do with Caleb himself. Ignoring him almost completely, they had proceeded to detail out a variety of ways in which Molly and Caleb’s paths could cross. Part of that, however, involved one last trip to  _ The Wicked Green _ so that they could parse out Molly’s daily schedule.

_ “That,”  _ Caleb had insisted the night before.  _ “is called stalking.” _

_ “Yeah and what did you do yesterday when you had the cab follow him home?” _ Beau had asked, Nott nodding in agreement.

And so there he was, walking up to Molly again, when the last time he had approached had been a disaster.

“Um, hello, excuse me, but um, I cannot help but notice that you are sitting alone and I was wondering if I could perhaps join you?”

Molly looked up from his breakfast at Caleb, appraising him and was apparently found wanting. Maybe it was that his discomfort with the situation translated somehow into something physically off putting. Maybe it was just an every other day sort of thing and that first day Molly had seen him he hadn’t been looking out of interest but rather disgust, but whatever it was, Molly answered in a language and Caleb was fairly certain was Infernal.

He didn’t understand a word.

“Oh, okay. You don’t speak Common then. That’s fine. I will just go away, now.”

As he walked away, Caleb felt Molly’s eyes on him, but he kept himself from looking back at him. From the side, he could see Caduceus just shaking his head in exasperation.

Outside, Nott and Beau were waiting. Beau had her head stuck by the window, watching. “Fuck, Caleb, for a dude he really is hot.” She said as he exited. “You strike out again?”

Confused, Caleb shifted his weight. “But his back was to you the whole time. How did you see him?”

“Oh, Caleb, but he turned to look at you as you left!” Nott had her fingers on the ledge as she stood on tiptoe to look in the window beside Beau.

Caleb pulled her back, hissing at them, “Please don’t do that. You are going to make someone think that we are up to no good. You will make Caduceus uncomfortable and he will call Molly’s family and then we will have real problems. Let’s just go home. I can’t do this. I cannot do this. It is clear that this is a stupid plan.”

“So we try the next stupid plan and the next until one of them works.”

Caleb couldn’t argue with that reasoning, and so he went silent and returned to the car while they waited for Molly to exit the shop.

 

**_The Sixth “Date”: Car Trouble_ **

“This is okay. You can do this. You are not bothering him at Caduceus’ shop this time. So you don’t have to feel bad about it.” Caleb encouraged himself as he walked back and forth in front of his car. Beau and Nott had driven there with him in Beau’s car, and, just to make sure he stayed there, they forced him to leave all the lights on and the radio while the car sat off for an hour and a half, a sure fire way to drain the battery on the old VW before leaving him there alone with the cables.

_ “He’ll stop.”  _ Nott assured him before she got in the car with Beau.  _ “He can’t help you, but he’ll definitely stop for you. He likes you.” _

So there Caleb had been left, with a dead car on the side of the road, cables in hand, waiting for the roar of Molly’s engine along the dusty trail as he headed to work.

He didn’t have to wait too long before he saw Molly. Molly’s attention turned to him and the bike slowed until he was stopped beside Caleb, flicking down the kickstand with his toe. “Hey there!” He said, pulling off his sunglasses. “I’m sorry I can’t help you. Motorcycles can’t jump cars.”

“Ja, I was wondering why you stopped.”

“Have you called for help yet?” Molly asked, peering beneath the raised hood of the car. “I’m shite with cars, or I’d see what I could do.”

“No, my phone is dead. Would it be alright if I borrowed yours to call my friends?”

Molly patted his pockets and, from within the flamboyant coat produced a rather surprising old Nokia. “Glad you said call. This puppy is just a temporary. I broke my phone yesterday. Long story. Anyways, it doesn’t have texting, but it does have calling! Go right ahead!” Molly held it out to him and when Caleb took it, their fingers brushed momentarily and they both pulled back at the contact.

The silence was awkward as Caleb dialed. “Thank you.” He said as the phone rang and Molly smiled, close lipped and blushing? No one answered. Caleb held up the phone. “I will try one more friend, if that is alright?”

“Of course, whatever you need.” As Caleb dialed again, Nott this time, instead of Beau, he noticed Molly watching him, noticed his tongue wet his lips as he watched. Caleb’s heart thrummed and he didn’t notice Nott’s voice in his ear.

_ “Caleb? Caleb! Are you there? Caaaaaaaaleb?” _

“Oh, ja, hello, Nott, would you please come get me?” He explained, for Molly’s benefit, where he was, but kept getting distracted as Molly bent over, looking under the hood of the car, his tail swishing languidly.

_ “Caleb?” _

“Oh, ja. That’s it, uh, just a dead battery. So, please, get Beauregard and come help me so that this nice man can go on his way.”

_ “See you soon, Caleb!” _

“H-here you go.”

Molly looked over his shoulder up at Caleb. “Ah, thanks. You’re gonna be alright?”

“Ah, ja, I will, thank you. My friends are on their way.”

“Great!” Grinning, Molly stood up straight and took the phone from Caleb. “Well, I’ll be, um, heading out then.”

“Ja. Nice to meet you.”

For a moment, Molly hesitated and then put out his hand to Caleb, who shook it. “I’m Mollymauk, by the way. Molly to my friends.”

“Caleb. I am Caleb.”

Molly seemed to turn the name over in his head for a minute before he flashed a smile. “Well. Glad I could help you Caleb.”

And that was the end of it. As Molly drove off, with a wave, Caleb couldn’t help but feel frustrated and elated all at once. He wasn’t sure if what had just transpired counted as a success, a failure, or something in between.

 

**_The Seventh “Date”: Smile and Wave_ **

Frumpkin meowed unhappily from where Caleb had asked him to remain sitting in the middle of the road. From behind the steering wheel, Caleb heard Nott whisper, “Smile and wave, that’s how he’ll know to stop, alright?”

Fairly certain that he smile was more of a grimace, Caleb replied from just the corner of his mouth, not turning to face her. “If I lose Frumpkin because of this, you are buying the incense necessary to summon him back from the Feywild.”

“Don’t say anything, you’ll jinx-”

Too late, Caleb shuddered as Molly’s bike ran straight over Frumpkin, who dissipated into nothingness, leaving Molly none the wiser.

Once, twice, Caleb blinked. And he heard the slide of Nott down the leather of the seat as she hid from his ire.

“ _ You _ ,” he hissed as he walked to the driver’s side door, “are paying.”

 

**_The Eighth “Date”: Neighbourhood Watch_ **

“I can’t believe we are doing this. Why would we do this?”

“Because it’ll work.”

“Your  last three plans did not work, Beauregard.”

Caleb was lying on the ground, Beau standing above him, their cars parked on the side of the road when they heard the telltale roar of Molly’s motorcycle.

“You ready, Caleb?”

“I-“

Beau did not wait to see if Caleb was ready and started kicking him (as gently as she knew how) in the torso. “Yeah you fucker, that’s what you get! Coming to Nicodranas and fucking shit up, you Zemnian bastard! Why don’t you just go the fuck back home you mother fucking, asshole, son of a-“

But whatever insult Beau was going to throw at Caleb was lost as Caleb saw Mollymauk rush up from behind, one arm outstretched, a baseball bat in the other, and suddenly Beau’s eyes were full of a trailing, black liquid, and she was blinded.

“What the fu-“

Molly hefted the baseball bat overhead and with a yell brought it down on her back.

“I’m fucking BLIND! What did you- argh! Fuck!” Beau went down hard, as the bat connected with her back with a solid metallic  _ thwack _ and she cried out in pain.

“You! Are! Fucking! Going! Down! You! Mother! Fucker!” Molly punctuated each word with a swing as beau rolled and crawled through the grass in attempt to get away. Caleb could only watch bemused from his spot, curled on the ground as Mollymauk hauled off and beat the shit out of Beau, before running back to Caleb, breathing hard.

“Are you alright?” He asked, as Caleb to his feet, while Beau groaned in the background.

“Ah, ja, I think-“

“Gods, what did that bitch think she was doing? Hang on, I’ll be right back-“ Before Caleb could do anything to stop him, Molly turned around and ran back towards Beau who was booking it away down the hill as fast as she was able, occasionally tripping over an uneven area of ground. Molly didn’t stop running, brandishing the bat and yelling at her in Infernal as he went in for another swing. When it connected, Caleb winced, but inwardly preened. That was what she got for suggesting such a thing. When Molly kept at it, Caleb started to grow concerned.

“Ah, I think she has had enough!” He called, but Molly didn’t let up.

“That’ll teach you to beat the shit out of people!”

A short while later, Molly seemed sufficiently please with his work and he ran back over the Caleb, the bat over one shoulder. “Hi, I’m Mollymauk, but my friends Call me Molly.”

“It is nice to meet you, Mollymauk. I am Caleb.”

Molly smiled. As he did, the clouds parted and the sun shone down on him from behind, lightening his plum curls to a lighter lavender like his skin, the strands almost shimmering in the light. “It’s nice to meet you Caleb. And that’s Molly, to you. I just saved your life. I’d like to call you my friend, if that’s alright.”

“What a beginning to a friendship. Thank you, but I think that she maybe got more than she gave…”

“You’re a fucking crazy bastard!” Beau’s voice echoed from where she was running away.

Molly turned, and with a viciousness that Caleb had never before had occasion to see, yelled back, hissing something in Infernal before switching to Common. “You better keep running, or I’ll do worse than blind and beat you!”

He turned back to Caleb with a smile, looking pleased. It was a complete reversal and jarred Caleb in light of the violence that had just occurred. “Gods, I’m sorry about that.” Molly’s voice was back to its usual mischievous lilt. “Community watch. You know. Anyways. Glad you seem to be okay.”

“Ah, ja. It was a good thing you were there. What, um, what was that with the…” he gestured to his eyes.

“Oh, yeah. Blood magic.” Molly seemed nonchalant, but Caleb wasn’t so sure. “Can be very handy in some situations. Most of the time I use it to sober people up but,” he shrugged and suddenly it was Molly who was preening. Molly was  _ flirting _ . It had worked. Caleb could hardly believe it. “You never know.”

“You blind people to sober them up?” He asked, incredulous, and there was Molly’s laugh, Molly’s terrible, wonderful laugh and Caleb felt warm inside and  _ yes _ , he would be thanking Beau by buying her a few healing potions, because it had worked.

“No! No, just another thing I can do. Two different thing, both blood magic.” Molly eyed Caleb. “Anyways, what was that all about?”

“You know? I don’t really know.” Caleb thought fast. He’d never anticipated this stage of things. “I think she was pissed that my car is slow. Then she heard me talk, and uh, well, I think she is sn abrasive person. But maybe not quite that abrasive. You really did a number on her.”

“Well, that’ll teach her, hey?” Molly winked, sinfully. “Come on, I’ll help you to your car, Caleb.”

 

**_The Eighth “Date”: Lost and Found_ **

“Oh Caleb, your idea will never work! Oh Caleb, not everyone likes cats, Caleb!” Caleb mimed Nott and Beau’s protestations at his only contribution to the list of plans. After the disaster that left Frumpkin stranded in the Feywilds until Caleb completed the ritual to summon him back, he had decided that it was time to take the reins a bit. He wanted the meeting to feel less...manufactured. The others were nice, but none were quite so nice as meeting at Caduceus’, but seeing as that was banned, Caleb understood the necessity to ‘make do’. Well, if he had to ‘make do’, he’d decided he was going to do it in his own way, at least once.

From around the corner he waited until Molly left the shop. He was dressed the same as he always was - a holdover, Caleb came to understand, from the concept that every day was Jester’s birthday. Somehow, that didn’t stop Caleb from being shocked and awed by the regality and utter ostentatious flamboyance of Molly’s go-to look.

“Go to him,” Caleb whispered, ordering Frumpkin. “And no matter what, do not leave him be. Love him like he is me. Or tuna. But do not eat him, ja?”

Frumpkin blinked one lazy blue eye and trotted up to Molly as Caleb hid behind the corner. The fae-cat meowed and rubbed up against Molly’s combat boots; Caleb could almost envision the look on Mollymauk’s face to match the surprise of suddenly having a cat loving up on him.

“And who might you be, handsome boy?” The clear lilt of Molly’s voice filtered around the corner and Caleb sighed, back up against the brick and stucco wall. “There’s a collar here, now, let me just- oh yes, yes, who’s a good kitty, oh yes, pretty handsome boy!”

Resisting the urge to blink into Frumpkin’s vision, Caleb just closed his eyes, imagining the scene as he strained to catch the words.

“Hmm, lets see, let’s get a nice look at those tags, shall we Mr. Kitty? C-caleb Wid...Widogast. Is that your person? Hmmm? Should we find your person? I think we should walk around a bit, see if that’s possible. Are you a shoulder cat? I bed you’re a shoulder cat. I bet you just love to hang around Mr. Caleb’s shoulders. Yes I bet you do! Up, up! There you go!”

Caleb was melting from the inside out. If he hadn’t already begun to accept the reality that he had... _ feelings _ ...for the peacock of a man, this would have solidified it.

Taking a deep breath, Caleb dashed out from the corner, head swiveling in every direction, searching.

And there they were, just a ways down the block and heading towards him, Frumpkin draped about Molly’s shoulders, his tail flicking lazily, his head nuzzling under Molly’s horn and ear incessantly.

“Oh! Hey! Hallo! That’s my cat! Thank you! Thank you!” He called out, pointing.

And then Molly smiled. It was ridiculous how, every time Molly smiled at him, it felt like the first time all over again. Silly and not, all at once.

“And that must make you Caleb Widogast then?” Molly meet him on the sidewalk, stuck out a hand. When Caleb grasped it, it was warm as ever, the pads of his fingers soft and the skin on the back of his hand like silk.

“Ja, that’s me. And this Kätschen here is Frumpkin. He is a good boy, usually.”

Molly’s eyes sparkled with possibility, a thousand unremembered moments dancing in their crimson depths. “But not today. Today he got away from you, hey? Guess it’s fate.”

Caleb’s heart sank. Not fate. Human machination. But to Molly… “Perhaps. Something like that. He has not been bothering you, has he?”

Emphatically, Molly shook his head. “Gods no!” One hand reached back to scratch Frumpkin under the chin. “He’s fabulous. I adore him. If he didn’t have a collar, I’d have probably taken him home with me...but then my housemate’s boyfriend is allergic, so I’d probably have put out flyers and you’d have gotten him back eventually…Caleb.”

“I can already tell that he would have been safe and happy with you. You would spoil him, ja?” Caleb’s heart was a shuddering butterfly in death throes, delicate wings beating their last frantic beats as Molly’s very smile drained the resistance from him and Caleb...Caleb fell. After every conversation, after the many, many hours they’d spent at breakfast together talking of everything and nothing, all it took was Molly holding Frumpkin, Molly spoiling the wretched little beast, Molly with Frumpkin on his shoulders looking at Caleb like he was somehow a fragment of possibility in a world of twist and turns, like Caleb had been dropped before him and he was Molly’s to have, to take, to do with as he pleased.

In that moment, if Molly had asked to keep Frumpkin forever, Caleb would have said yes.

His heart was no longer his own.

 

**_The Not-Date: Sing a Little Song for Me_ **

Nott had  _ left _ him there. He could not  _ believe _ that she had left him there. It was the most ridiculous, convoluted plan that they had ever come up with and she had just  _ left him there _ . Tied up. Next to his car. Waiting.

A motorcycle crested the hill and, for a moment, Caleb’s heart began to race as he thought of Molly hopping off the bike to his rescue (and at least that was true, he genuinely needed rescuing this time) when he realized that while the bike was Molly’s the riders certainly weren’t. But he did recognize them.

Yasha and Jester.

“Really?” Jester asked, looking down at him.

“This, this was  _ not _ my idea,” he insisted vehemently. The blue tiefling only giggled before hopping off the bike. As she untied him, Yasha looked down, one hand still on the the handlebars, and Caleb felt the fear of the Gods thrill through him as she did.

“Come with us.” Yasha’s soft voice was dangerous as ever. “We want to show you something.”

When he followed them back to the beautiful little rowhouse and ushered him quietly in and up the stairs, Caleb hadn’t been sure what to expect. Whatever it was, it was anything but what he found. Smoothly, Yasha pushed open the first door on the landing. The space was very obviously Molly’s with all its colour and reigning chaos, and like so many other times at  _ The Wicked Green _ , Caleb was watching Molly seated from behind, his sewing machine was whirring away, bolts of fabric stacked around him like he’d been building a small house. He was lit from the side by the sun and the jewelry in his ears and horns glinted as it caught the light.

But the most fascinating thing of all, was that Molly was singing. Soft and gentle, and not terribly well, but in his lilting voice, the lyrics captured Caleb’s attention completely.

“ - _ ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes. And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave, To the dark and the endless skies-” _

Before Caleb was ready, Yasha shut the door without so much as a click and Jester rushed him back down the stairs.

“We know what you’ve been up to.” Jester fixed him with a glare, but Yasha’s face was startlingly soft, wearing an expression Caleb had not seen on her face before.

“He only sings,” when she spoke, her eyes shone with tears, “on days when he’s met you. And it is  _ always _ that same song.”

Caleb didn’t know what to think. Molly looked so happy, sitting there, head lolling side to side as he sang, hands deftly pushing the fabric along. And they were implying that Molly had been so... because of him?

“Look, we’ve got to ask you. What is it that you want with Molly?” Jester too had a softer look on her face, and though Caleb felt that he ought to finally feel more relaxed, he didn’t.

“I...I-” At a loss, Caleb looked through the crack in the doorway through which he could still make out Molly, who’d gotten a little louder than before, still singing the same song. “I...he looks so happy.” When he looked away, Yasha and Jester was watching him. “I just want him to be happy,” he said, finally, and found it was true.

“Good.” Yasha pulled the door shut the rest of the way. “That’s the right answer.”

When they made their way safely down the stairs, Caleb hovered between action and inaction, a question formulated, but not yet verbalized. “What happens,” he asked, “when one, day, Molly wakes up and he’s old and doesn’t know what happened. What happens when he starts to go white? What happens then, when he looks in the mirror and has aged years overnight?”

Jester bit her lip and rung her hands. She and Yasha exchanged a glance, but neither answered and Caleb knew then that they were wondering the very same thing.

 


	5. 4.

4.

“Images flicker, each one bringing its own sorrow or its own smile. Sometimes both. At the very worst, an impenetrable and sightless black and at best, a happiness so bright that it hurts the eyes to see, coming and going on some unseen projector perpetually turned by an invisible hand. One, then another. The hollow click of the shutter. Now stop. Freeze this frame. Pluck it down and hold it close and be damned by what you see. Henri always said: the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings.”

~Pittacus Lore,  _ I Am Number Four _

“From an evolutionary point of view, most emotions - fear, desire, anger - serve some practical purpose, but nostalgia is a useless, futile thing because it is a longing for something that is permanently lost . . . .”

~David Nicholls,  _ Us _

 

It was with a newfound sense of joy that Caleb went every morning to  _ The Wicked Green _ over the next several weeks, with full leave from Yasha and Jester. He’d left their home, left behind the busily sewing, happily singing Mollymauk for the comfort of his own. Though he had realized but a few days before the true extent of his emotions for Molly, Caleb had yet to share that information with anyone else. It seemed too private, too intimate to speak aloud yet, and sharing it was Molly seemed…suddenly unreasonable. Despite Jester and Yasha’a blessings, Caleb was finally coming to understand why they had been so nervous in the first place. How ludicrous would it sound to Molly to hear a profession of…of deep adoration from a stranger? (It wasn’t love. It  _ couldn’t _ be love.)

He found Molly where Molly always was, in the booth facing the back stained glass window. Caduceus glanced up when the chime announced his entry and gave him a knowing nod. Obviously, he’d been filled in on the situation. It was strange to be entering  _ The Wicked Green _ with only one goal in mind: to sit beside Molly and listen to him speak and speak to him and- And what? Do it all over again the next day?

_ That is exactly what you have been doing all this time, why is it bothering you now, you are lächerlich, Caleb Widogast. Total lächerlich. _

Nervous all over again, Caleb went to Molly’s table.

“Uh, hallo. Um, excuse me, but, I wanted to ask you about your jacket. It is very beautiful.”

Much to Caleb’s surprise, he was rewarded with a smile, not one of Molly’s wide, mischievous grins, but a genuine, tender smile. “I made it, thank you. Put it together, sewed it, added the embroidery. The whole shebang. Would you like to sit?”

If this was insanity, it was worth it. Though he questioned himself every time he set out to earn Molly’s favour once more, it was more than worth the sight of one of Molly’s dimples as the corners of his mouth tripped upwards or a glimpse the lines that crinkled around his eyes when he scrunched up his nose in laughter. The moment he achieved that first curious glance, Caleb was immediately reminded of why he’d allowed his friends to push him into ridiculous situations, why, despite several failed attempts, he kept coming back. Something about Mollymauk made Caleb’s withered heart want to sing.  _ I just want him to be happy _ . That was what he had told Molly’s friends. And it was true. It did not matter if Molly took a fancy to him on any given day; regardless, Caleb wanted to heap compliments on him daily. Molly had proven unfailingly kind, generous and full of life in a way that Caleb had almost forgotten was possible. Even though Molly lived the same day over and over again, he was easily more filled with life than Caleb felt he had the capacity for in his little pinky.

Molly amazed him, awed and blinded him, and Caleb selfishly wanted it all.. Every smile, every laugh, every suggestive arch of his brow or twitching flick of his tail, Caleb wanted for his own. Molly was addicting in that best, most dangerous of ways He made Caleb want to completely forget that life could be any other way. He made Caleb forget everything. And Caleb didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Ja, I would love to sit, thank you. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you come to be such an accomplished jacket-maker?” It was a question that they hadn’t yet covered. A result of Caleb’s blessedly (and ironically, all things considered) perfect memory, he had no trouble recalling what he had and had not yet learned about Molly. But just as he went to answer, another patron stepped into the shop.

“Hey Mr. Clay, someone’s motorcycle is being ticketed. I think it’s one of your regulars.”

Molly stood. “Excuse me,” he said before dashing out of the booth towards the door. Caleb looked to Caduceus and the expression there was anything but serene. They both followed Molly out the door; heart in his throat and nervous beyond any explicable reason, Caleb was still unprepared for what followed.

“-it doesn’t expire until Fessuran! I swear! What are you  _ talking _ about! This is ridiculous!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but your license expired two  _ years _ ago. This isn’t a matter of months, we’re talking about. It is years.” The Crownsguard didn’t even look up from his ticket pad. “You’ll have to pay the fine like ever-“

But Molly wasn’t listening anymore. “No! No! It’s 1216 of Sydenstar! Tomorrow is Highsummer!”

“Sir-“

“It’s the 6 th of Sydenstar, 1216, are you  _ high _ ? Have you huffed some skein today or something? What is this, some sort of racial profiling? You can’t do this to me!”

Caleb’s heart, which had been threatening to expel from his chest, sank quickly, a stone in his stomach as Molly protested and the Crownsguard simply pressed the ticket into his hands.

“Pay the fine, sir.”

“No! This is unfair. I don’t know how you think that this is going to stand up in front of the Lawmaster, but I am not going to-“ Ticket in hand, Mollymauk’s tirade cut off and Caleb saw his eyes widen as he caught sight of the stamped date on the ticket. “I…I…I don’t- I don’t understand.”

The Crownsguard looked perplexed at the change in direction, and Molly, heedless of the ticket, dropped it and ran to the newspaper stand outside Clay’s shop, rifling through the papers and the magazines, looking frantically from one to another, tossing them out on the ground as he did.

Beside Caleb, Caduceus drew in a heavy sigh. “So this was what Jester was worried about all this time. Surprised it didn’t happen here sooner.”

Insensible to anything around him, Molly fairly flew over to his bike, hopped on and tore off down the street, leaving them all windblown in his wake.

“Uh, should I even ask?” The Crownsguard had picked up the ticket, holding it like it was liable to start on fire.

“I’ll take care of that. Don’t worry about it.” Caduceus was already stepping forward. All Caleb could think was how glad he was to have taken the Car that day. Nearly sprinting (and wishing that it were reasonable to cast Haste on a vehicle), he got into the beater and drove off after Molly.

Molly, who was on a motorcycle and driving like a maniac because he was out of his mind.

Caleb didn’t think. Caleb drove.

Blessedly, by some act of the Gods (probably The Moonweaver. Molly indicated once that he was a devotee), by the time Caleb’s clunker made it to the Rowhouse where Molly lived, Molly’s bike was already parked there, unscathed.

When he made it to the still open door, it looked as though a hurricane had gone through. Molly’s coat was on the floor, and a pile of magazines were cascading from the table to the couch like a waterfall.  Following the path of destruction, Caleb found Molly, sitting in the corner of Jester’s room. Lying open on the bed was her photo album, her smiling face looking out at Caleb from the picture where a half orc man that he’d never met was kissing her on the cheek. Across from Molly, back up against the wall, was Yasha.

Feeling like an outsider and a stranger, Caleb simply stood where he was, waiting.

It felt like an eternity before Molly finally raised his head, face stained with tears. The look with which he fixed Yasha was devastating. “What happened?”

And for the first time (for Caleb) and what seemed like the first time, but was really numbering in the seventies (for Molly), Yasha told the story.

“It was Jester’s birthday. The 6 th of Sydenstar 1216. Two Years ago. Today is the 19 th of Sydentar 1218. You were going to get Jester’s favourite doughnuts…” Yasha trailed away, looking at the wall, at her hands, at the rug on the floor. Anywhere but at Molly. Caleb felt invisible, as intangible as Schmidt, his unseen servant. “They called me at work. You know it’s not far away. When Jester and I got there…the clerics were just getting out the ambulance. It was…there were doughnuts everywhere. It was almost funny, Molly. But you were in the middle of it all, laying on the street with your eyes open and your head bashed in. We-“ Yasha’s voice broke and a small sob escaped her, but Molly’s face was blank, carefully devoid of emotion. When Yasha spoke again, her voice wavered, but remained true. “They thought you were dead. There was a bystander. Nila, her name was. A really nice, sweet firbolg on the way to pick up her son from daycare. She said it was a hit and run. A big, black hummer that came cruising out of nowhere and just mowed you down. There was…the doughnuts…At first it looked like they were frosted red…”

Molly was shaking when Yasha finally stood, opening the closet door and pulling a box off the top shelf. Inside was another scrapbook and Caleb could see that it was clippings of the accident. And a photo. A photo of Molly laying in the hospital, red eyes open but sightless.

“You were unconscious for two weeks, but you never shut your eyes. It was the strangest thing. They had to give you eye drops ten times a day. Nila gave a description of the driver to the police. Big, hulking, grey skinned with tattoos. Shaved head. They never found him.” A shadow fell across her face and she fixed Molly in her gaze. “If I ever find him, I’m going to kill him. I will kill him, Molly. I swear it.”

“How many times have I heard this?” Molly’s tears had dried up. He stood shaking, the scrapbook in his hands.

“Too many.”

He flipped through the pages once more, eyes lingering on the photo of the scene of the accident, and from where he stood at a distance, Caleb could tell that Molly’s face blurred out by the publishers. If it hadn’t been for the colour photo, it might not have been him.

Setting the book down on the bed, Molly turned to Caleb. “And you? What about you? Who are you to me?”

“I-I..um, ja, well-“

“He’s your boyfriend Molly. You’ve had breakfast with him every day for over a month.” Yasha’s voice was flat, the emotion gone out of it, but Caleb didn’t notice.  _ Boyfriend _ . He turned the word over in his mind.

“Well.” With a critical eye, he looked Caleb up and down. It felt curiously like being x-rayed. Eventually, Molly seemed to come to some sort of decision on the matter. “At least I have one thing going for me,” he added bitterly, flipping the book closed. “I need to go be alone for a bit. Sorry Yash. Caleb.”

Molly brushed past them both and out of the room. Slowly, Yasha went to the bed, closed and put away the wedding album. “This is the first time since Jester and Fjord got married that he’s had a bad day. I knew it was going to be worse when he found out that he wasn’t at their wedding.”

For a moment, it seemed like Yasha was mulling over some final conundrum, her fingers ghosting over the worn pages of the scrapbook, over the image of Molly’s broken body laying on the asphalt. Then, she picked it up and handed it to Caleb. “You’ve been making him happier than he’s been in a long time. Even before the accident. You deserve to know. You deserve to know everything. There’s…something Molly hasn’t told you about himself. He doesn’t tell anyone. I know that he always seems pretty happy and he is, he  _ really _ is, but I’m going to tell him that he should tell you. You should know.”

In his hands, Caleb held the book, delicate like he would hold a kitten. “Why?” The terrible scene stared him in the face and by some grotesque fascination, he could not look away. “Why would you tell him that I am his…his  _ boyfriend _ ? Why would you tell him that he should give me his personal secrets? I don’t understand.”

Fixing him with a sympathetic look, Yasha shook her head. “You can’t see yourself, you can’t see what you look like when you’re looking at him. But I can. On bad days, I always promise him that I will never lie to him, before I explain. All I did was tell him the truth. You have breakfast every day, he comes home and tells me all about the nice Zemnian man he met and that they are going to have breakfast again the next day and how he could get lost in your eyes forever, that they’re more blue that the sky or more crystalline than the ocean. You are his boyfriend. I wasn’t going to lie to him. I lie to him too much and too often as it is. He deserves something good. He deserves to be happy.” Still, Caleb couldn’t look away from the photo. “You make him happy, Caleb. All you have to do is look at him to see it.”

* * *

Molly sat on the rooftop garden, looking up at the sky, his arms curled around his legs, knees drawn up against his chest. It was unfair. Everything was so unfair. Why did it have to be him? He’d already lost himself once, started from scratch and now…He understood what Yasha had told him before that Caleb person walked into the room. About never having new memories. He understood it, but it frightened him. He’d tried so hard to make himself  _ himself _ and now…He felt washed away in a raging tide, and he was left, bobbing untethered at sea, without an oar.

All his dreams had been blown away in the wind.

And then, there was Caleb. How long had they been seeing one another? What kind of a person would choose to be with someone who would never remember them?  _ The best kind _ , Molly’s heart whispered to him.  _ The kind who is worth it. _

“And he is hot,” Molly murmured to himself. Yes, he  _ definitely _ was hot. Thinking back to their first meeting that day, Molly recalled how he’d been drawn to Caleb’s eyes, more specifically to his pale lashes, so soft and gold and delicate that they looked more like silken strands of thread, and the dusting of stars across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose reminded Molly of stars during the day. Everything about Caleb’s face was soft and inviting and warm, until he met the cool breeze of his sky-blue eyes. He’d felt, the first time that they saw one another, that Caleb looked at him like he was something special; not the way that others looked at Molly like he was special, with lust in their eyes and their grins, but as though Molly’s mere presence was a gift and his laugh a blessing.

Caleb looked at Molly like he knew him, and, rather abruptly, Molly realized that Caleb  _ did _ actually know him. There was a difference between hearing and understanding. And in that moment, Molly understood. What good was lust when every day Caleb came to  _ The Wicked Green _ , hoping to win Molly over anew?

Tentatively, Molly pressed a hand up to his head, to the place on the right side, just behind his horn that he didn’t reach for, usually, because it was an awkward spot to reach. There he could feel the raised scarring, the evidence of his thoroughly damaged brain made physical beneath his fingers.

The images haunted him, and Molly wondered how many times Caleb had heard the same story, seen Molly break under the news. The tears threatened, but did not come. Instead, Molly lay back on the cement, trying to decode the shapes of the clouds. He saw a cat in one and a bonfire in another. Curious shapes. They felt significant and somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t determine why.

Eventually, he heard the door to the roof open and lifted his head just enough to see Yasha and Caleb following him.

“Molly?”

The waver in her voice broke Molly’s heart, and he sat up to indicate where he was, but she was already looking at him. Like she’d already known he would be there.

All at once, it really, truly hit him. She  _ did  _ know.

“I come up here every time, don’t I?”

“Yes. You do.”

“It’s really been two years?”

“Yes, it has.” Though she never had been before, at least not to Molly, Yasha was difficult to read. Her posture didn’t belay any comfort with the situation, but neither was there nervousness. It was sad, but routine to her. Two years.

“And every day, you pretend for me? You put together this charade so that I don’t, what? Freak like it did today?”  _ They’re afraid for me. They’re afraid of what I might do _ .

“Yes.”

“And how many times has he gone through this?” Molly pointed an accusing finger at Caleb, who blanched.

“Never. This is the first time. I…it is all new for me too, Mollymauk.”

Molly didn’t know what to make of it. That morning at Clay’,s Caleb had seemed unassuming and sweet, interested in him, obviously, but nothing more. Now, there was an unfathomable expression on his face as he stumbled over the words, voice almost hoarse with emotion.

Later. He’d care about that later. There was ti-

_ No, _ he reprimanded himself.  _ There’s no time. None at all. A few hours. That’s it. That’s all you have before it’s gone. _

“Do I still work?”

“No, Molly. You never went back to work. Cali’s in the loop. She tells you the same thing every day.”

“And my phone?” He stuck a hand in his pocket, fingers closing around the resilient and unattractive form on the Nokia.

“We never bothered to get the old one fixed. At least this way there was an excuse.” Yasha wasn’t ashamed, at least not that Molly could tell. Stoic and uncompromising, she answered each and every one of his questions, no matter how arbitrary and insignificant.

When he ran out of questions to ask, Molly stood, squaring his shoulders. “I need to speak to my Doctor. I need to hear it from her myself.”

Only then did Yasha’s mask fracture and break. “You’ve been to the Doctor many times, Molly. Many, many times. Every time they tell you the same thing.”

He shook his head; Molly understood, he really did. Yasha had been through this before, and yes, he logically understood that he had as well, but he  _ couldn’t  _ remember it and he  _ needed _ to see for himself, to make it real, instead of a dream, instead of just the picture of some tiefling wearing his clothes and his tattoos, bloodied like a corpse on the front page of a news clipping.

“Please, Yasha. I need this. I need this.”

Just she opened her mouth to respond, Caleb cut her off. “If you will allow it, I would like to go to. I want to better understand.”

Molly’s mangled, bruised heart soared at the words. “I want you to come with me. I-“ He stopped, started again. “We’re dating?”

Mutely, Caleb only nodded in the affirmative.

“Then you should be with me.”

Apparently, Molly’s word was law, because Yasha didn’t argue, instead holding open the door for the two of them to pass through, back down into the dark, narrow stairway. Vaguely, Molly heard a sound like a snap and suddenly there was a soft, warm thing slung about his neck, moving of its own accord and nuzzling into him.

“That is Frumpkin. You like him very much and he is very fond of you.”

Caleb gave no other explanation, but Molly reach back to scritch the fae-cat’s ears, which earned him a loud, articulate purr. The gesture was significant. There was something about the quality of Caleb’s thickly accented voice that indicated this was important and Molly took it for what it was – a social cue.

“Thank you, darling.”

Behind him, Caleb stopped abruptly on the stairs, as if frozen by the words. It sent Molly scrambling mentally. He paused too, looking over his shoulder up at Caleb and behind him, hunched and uncomfortable in the small space, Yasha.

“Was that not alright? Should I not call you that? Is that not a thing w-“

Caleb blinked and then a stream of words shot out. “No. It is alright. I was not expecting- ach schade! It is fine. Please, let us just go, ja?”

Later. Molly would ask-  _ No. There is no later. There will never be a later. Now. There’s only now, so live in it you utter arse!  _ He kept walking, but spoke as he did. “You’ve got tell me while I’ve got the time, so we might as well talk about it now. What should I call you?”

Because he was beelining for the door, Molly couldn’t see Caleb’s face, but the tremor in his voice was enough evidence. “You may call me whatever you want, I suppose. We have never discussed such a thing.”

“Well, lovely then, darling. Yash, are we taking your car?”

“Whatever you want, Molly.”

That response was starting to really irk him, if he was being honest with himself, but he didn’t push it. He wanted the make the most of his ‘bad day’ as Yasha called it. Molly clambered into the back of Yasha’s black wrangler and Caleb, surprisingly, climbed in beside him, forgoing to empty from passenger seat.

Their fingers were laying only a sliver of an inch apart and Molly’s hand twitched as he imagined taking Caleb’s in his own. Wordless, Yasha rolled up the garage door, climbed in the vehicle and, starting it, backed out down their infinitely short drive.

As they rolled into the street, straightening out, Molly noticed it. “Hey, did the neighbours paint the whole house while I was gone?”

Against the black leather of the steering wheel, Yasha’s knuckles went white. “No. Fjord uses illusion on it for you every morning, just until you’re gone. We have a standing arrangement with the family who lives there now.”

Everything was different, it seemed, even the neighbours. “Oh. That’s nice of him. Gods, I can’t believe that Jester and Fjord are married. When did that happen? I didn’t look for a date in the photo album, I was too busy looking at the pictures.”

“It’s been several months, that’s all.”

Gnawing on his lip, Molly considered her words, and then his spirits fell again. “They haven’t gone on their honeymoon, have they? Because of me…”

At the stoplight, Yasha turned in her seat, affixing Molly in place with only her eyes. “Stop blaming yourself. They love you too much to leave you.”

And wasn’t that just pleasant. Molly had started out living with Fjord, after…after everything else that had happened. They’d been easy housemates, but then Fjord had moved out of the house and onto the trawler for a long term voyage and they’d mutually decided that it was best to give up the lease and Molly moved in with Jester and Yasha instead.

“Hey, what would my day have been like if none of this had happened?” he queried, suddenly curious.

Yasha’s thumb was tapping ever faster on the wheel, but she still answered him. “You come back from breakfast with Caleb usually happy-“

“Usually?”

“Ah, well…” Caleb chuckled. “Sometimes you like me better than other times.”

Met with the urge to laugh, Molly simply gave in. It felt good to let the sound bubble up from within him as he took in the sheepish look on Caleb’s face, twin spots of bright pink burning on his cheeks. It struck Molly, suddenly, that yeah, maybe they hadn’t discussed what they were to one another but-

“Hey, do we have sex?” The blunt question fled his lips without permission from his brain and suddenly Caleb was coughing, almost choking, doubled over in his seat and Molly reached out to pat him on the back.

The contact was sudden and electric, even through layers of clothes; Molly found his hand lingering on Caleb, thumb rubbing gentle circles. “Breathe, Caleb, breathe! It’s a good thing that we’re headed to the hospital!” he comforted, only partly in jest. “Are you okay?”

A moment later, Caleb’s coughing had subsided. “Ja, danke, I am fine. You…caught me off guard and-“

“It’s no bother. I’m sorry, I know I can be blunt, I figure, there’s no _ later _ for me, so I may as well just ask all my questions outright.”

“We, ah…” Caleb eyed Yasha from the back and Molly could see Yasha in the rear view mirror, glaring harshly as if she could set Caleb on fire with a look. “No, that, um, has not been a figure in our lives.”

“But it will be, right?”  _ Stupid, stupid STOP- _

“That remains to be seen. Regardless, it is you I enjoy spending my mornings with and with you I will continue to spend my mornings with.”

“Oh.” Molly hadn’t really considered it, when the thought first crossed his mind. Caleb was  _ gorgeous _ after all, and attractive persons with attractive brains and attractive smiles who lit up even the darkest space were  _ definitely _ , Molly’s type and given the choice…but there was that ever pressing terrible truth that he would never  _ remember _ Caleb the next day and maybe Caleb wasn’t comfortable with that and maybe  _ Molly _ wouldn’t always be comfortable with that and- “Alright, question for another time then. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’m just trying to get my bearings, to understand what’s all-“

“It is fine. It is a valid question. Do not worry about it.” Caleb was retreating into himself and Molly got the impression that it wasn’t exactly in his character to do what it was Yasha had explained that he did.

“Every day? Every day you come to Caduceus’ and try to woo me?” Molly asked, voice low. He risked a quick glance at Yasha and saw that she was resolutely ignoring them. “Why?”

When Caleb lifted his head, Molly was lost. Caleb looked at Molly with just a subtle tinge of reluctance, as though Molly might see too much. but his face was a map of his life that he could not hide away. There was a little wrinkle over the bridge of his nose and fine lines at the corners of his mouth that did not look like they were from over-smiling, but perhaps the opposite. Caleb wore his concerns like a second skin and Molly wanted to smooth his hand over Caleb’s cheek and wrest away all of his worries with a mere touch. He wanted to do it  _ forever _ and suddenly, Moly understood.

“Because you are good and-and kind.” Caleb began, sudden courage (where from, Molly knew not) steadying him. “I wanted to make you happy. And, for the record, you approached me first.”

“I did? I bet I did! I bet if you sit in the sunlight your hair looks like molten copper. How could I resist that?” It was Molly’s turn to blush, though that didn’t stop Caleb from colouring even further. “Uh, sorry. Thank you, by the way.” Molly reached a hand for Caleb’s, and clasped his hand, pulling it into his lap. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course, Mollymauk.”

“Caleb.”

“Hmm?”

“No, I just- I just wanted to say your name. See how it feels in my mouth, you know. Tell if it’s familiar somehow. I don’t know any other Calebs.” His boyfriend’s name felt right, rolling over his tongue and between his teeth, light and soft. “Caleb. Caleb.”

Each time Molly said his name, Caleb shivered and gripped his hand a bit tighter.

They rode in silence for a while, each pondering how so much had transpired in so short of a time. Caleb’s hand never left Molly’s. It was comforting, somehow, where it ought to have felt wrong or strange to so intimately hold a stranger’s hand. The were the hands of a hard worker, calloused and scarred and stained with pen ink, nails chewed down and Molly stroked the feather soft space between his knuckles, imagining what it would be like to feel the pads of Caleb’s fingers on his cheek, or his upper arm, drifting tenderly and sensuously over his skin.

Feeling suddenly maudlin, Molly ceased his study of Caleb’s hands and looked out the window that the world passing around him. He knew enough of practical science to understand that it only felt like he was standing still when he was moving and looking at things pass him by, but it was all too apt a metaphor for how he was suddenly feeling.

“You lie to me every day.” Bitterly, he suddenly turned to find Yasha in the mirror. “You’ve lied to me every day for two years. I think I’m standing still and everything else is moving around me, but I’m not. I’m not. I don’t want to stand still.  _ I want to live _ . It’s not  _ fair _ .”

“I know, Molly. I’m sorry.” The apology in Yasha’s voice was toneless and flat and it stung at first before falling hollow.

“I’ve said all of this before, haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

Without warning, Caleb squeezed Molly’s hand tightly and Molly felt, once again, unbidden and unwelcome, the burn of tears.

“How much farther?” He asked, blinking them away as he did.

“Not long. I promise.”

Only a few minutes later, Yasha parked the car and they climbed out. When Caleb’s hand slipped from Molly’s grasp, it struck him with an unparalleled discomfort, but it didn’t feel right yet, seeking out Caleb to remedy that, so Molly made a grab for Yasha’s hand instead and did not let go until they entered the reception room.

The need to take charge, to control  _ something _ ,  _ anything _ was strong, so Molly charged forward, rapping his knuckles on the desk impatiently. Two desk workers came forward, one with a tag proclaiming him to be “Trevor” and another with a mop of curly, bright red hair.

“’allo Molly, it’s good ta see you-?” The redhead asked, but Molly completely ignored him, eyes catching on a familiar word – memory.

“Never mind. Thank you!” He grinned jovially before taking off again.

The redhead looked to Trevor. “Rude. Wot’s ‘is problem then?”

By way of answer, Trevor elbowed him in the gut. “Numb nuts, ‘e’s got memory problems, remember? Or do we gotta get you checked out too? ‘e can’t remember you!”

“Oh. Right...I suck at this job.”

 

“Well, Molly,” Cleric Pike Trickfoot said as she climbed her stool to put the scans on the lightboard. “I don’t see too much change. Most of the healing happened already within the first six months.” A long pointer extended from the tool in her hand and she snapped the tip of it against the screen, to indicate the spot. Smiling at him kindly, the tiny gnomish woman continued, “but I’m always happy to answer your questions. I want you to know that.”

Looking at scans of his own brain was strange to be sure. He could see the damage, only because she indicated it, but the other spot from…before…he knew well enough to find on his own. It didn’t look any different either.

“It’s the temporal lobe that was damaged, but I think you probably knew that much, right?”

Molly nodded. Those things were from before. Those things he remembered with perfect clarity. “I do. It’s the scar tissue that’s impeding my memory, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. Think about it this way. What scar tissue was already there has just been built on and made worse, so instead of-“

“I understand, Cleric Trickfoot, thanks.” He must have said it too quickly because Pike looked from Molly to Caleb where he had hidden himself in the shadowed corner.

“Right. Of course, Molly. And who is your friend?”

“Oh, um, that’s Caleb. He’s…my boyfriend. So I’m told.”

Like a ray of sunlight, Pike’s cherubic face lit up. “Oh! That’s lovely, Molly. Hello Caleb! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Cleric Pike Trickfoot. You should let me know if you have any questions too, okay? It’s important for significant others to fully understand their loved ones’ medical needs.” There was something pointed in Pike’s words and Molly felt it aimed at him, even though she was speaking in Caleb’s direction.

“So what you are saying is that the scar tissue is preventing his brain from converting short-term memory into long-term memory overnight? Like a disc-skip, na ja?” Caleb put his index finger ponderously to his lips as he stepped forward, examining the scans. Although Molly was watching him closely, he couldn’t tell if Caleb had picked up on the prior injury that he understood to have made his situation all the worse.

“That’s about the long and short of it, yep. We call it Ryndarien Syndrome for Realmseer Eskil Ryndarien of Whiteruun. He was an amazing Mage and Arcanist until he took on a knock on the head, unfortunate accident from what I hear. I knew the guy. Anyways it took him a few years to publish his findings, considering he’s the first known person to display the same side effects as your particular brain injury, Molly.” Pike chuckled. “He kept forgetting what he’d already done and had to start over a few times. And he’s already an irritable person.”

Molly couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well, at least he eventually managed it.”

Pike sighed, looking back at the scans. “Your condition is stable, Molly. And permanent. No amount of healing can lessen the scar tissue, I’m sorry. I did all I could for you when they first brought you to me.” Regret was heavy in her voice, and Molly felt the weight of it on his own shoulders.

Permanent.

“Thanks for seeing me anyways.”

From her vantage point, Pike reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck with that boyfriend of yours, okay?”

Suddenly shy, Molly pushed back a lock of his hair. “Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that. I think that, whether either of you know it or not, he’s already yours.” There was something about Pike Trickfoot that made Molly want to cry and smile at the same time, so he smiled, because he didn’t want to cry. Pike leaned in close to him, almost conspiratorially and whispered, “Be happy, Molly, life is too short to be sad when you have people who care about you all around you.”

Then he did cry, a few tears escaping before he could wipe a hand across his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for everything. I’ll try.”

All three of them were quiet on the ride back. Though Molly wanted to take Caleb’s hand again, he kept thinking himself out of it. It was frustrating, wanting something but being worried that it wasn’t right. If there was one thing Molly was used to, it was being impulsive. He didn’t feel like himself. He felt wrong and uncomfortable in his own skin, the soft emotion cushion of Cleric Trickfoot long since dissipated.

A half an hour into their ride, Yasha blessedly broke the silence, and Molly mentally thanked the Moonweaver, until he registered what it was she’d said.

“What?”

“I said that you should tell Caleb how we met.”

The phrase, while innocuous, was loaded with far, far more than Molly knew how to articulate. “Really?” he rasped.

“Yes.”

“I trust you, Yasha. I always have and I always will.”  _ Now or never, Tealeaf. _ “Caleb?” Molly shifted so that he was faced the other man. “Can I…can I hold your hand again?”

“Oh, ja.” It was impossible to determine what Caleb was thinking and it chafed Molly’s sensibilities, but Caleb reached towards him and their hands met across the seat, Molly wrapping his fingers around the steady warmth of Caleb’s hand.

“I have something to tell you. About me. I don’t really talk about it, especially not with people I don’t know and, considering the situation, I doubt I told you. But if Yasha thinks you should know…”  _ Breathe. In and Out _ . “Tw- _ four _ ,” he corrected himself. “Four years ago, I met Yasha and Jester on what I would have called, up until now, the worse night of my life. It…well it’s still the worst night I can remember at least, so let’s go with that. I met them on the worst night of my life. Caleb, do you know what Jester and Yasha do for a living?”

“No.” The intensity of Caleb’s response rocked him.

“Okay. Something I haven’t mentioned, I guess. Yasha and Jester work in the morgue.”

Molly waited. Caleb waited. Nothing happened.

“I met them in the morgue.”

“Okay…”

“I- gods, Caleb, there’s no easy way to say this. I woke up in one of the cold containers. I was a John Doe. I woke up naked and freezing on a body tray in the dark. And I have no memory of  _ anything _ that came before that.” He paused, allowing the information to sink in. “I know you saw the other trauma point in the scans. That’s what Cleric Trickfoot was going to say. The first injury made this own worse. I’m, uh…susceptible. That’s the word. So I’ve got no past and not future. I don’t really mind not having a past, but-“

Caleb’s hand in his gripped with such a secure force, pressure but only to a comforting degree and Caleb was leaning in towards him, completely unawares of his own actions. “You have a future, Mr. Mollymauk. You have a future if I have anything to say about it.” The words were fervent, almost frightening, but they were tempered with such infinite care that Molly couldn’t break away.

“I believe you. Somehow, I do.”

When they got back to the house, Caleb immediately bid them farewell. “I must get home, or my roommate will worry. She is very small, but has very big emotions,” he related with tender fondness. “I will see you tomorrow, Molly.” The words sounded like a promise more than anything else.

“Hey, wait! Caleb!” Molly called, running back towards the pathetic excuse for a vehicle Caleb drove. He was already in the car when Molly reached him, waiting patiently.

“Ja, what is it?”

“I…flowers. I like flowers. Daffodils. And hyacinths.” He didn’t know why he said it. Why he was encouraging this nice man, this nice, gorgeous man...

“And cats, apparently.” Caleb added cryptically.

“What?” 

“Nevermind. Thank you for the tip. Have a good night, Mollymauk.”

There was no ‘see you in the morning’, no ‘I can’t wait until tomorrow’ and Molly’s heart fell. But it made sense, so he didn’t push it.

“Yeah, you too, Caleb. You too.”

Caleb drove off, leaving Molly behind in the low light of dusk as the future he could never have drove away from him.

Though he felt Yasha approach from behind, Molly didn’t move, watching the horizon where Caleb’s vehicle disappeared between the alleys in the distance.

“Molly?”

“He’s a dream, Yasha.”

“I know, you seem like you really-“

“No.” The word dropped emphatically from his lips and he turned away from the setting sun. “Caleb is a dream. That’s all he can ever be. He’s sweet and wonderful and gorgeous and tomorrow the man who went to the doctor with me today, the man who watched me melt down and still held my hand in the car, the man who blushed when I called him my boyfriend -tomorrow he’ll be gone. People are made of memories, Yasha. And when I go to bed tonight, those memories will die and Caleb will die with them.”

Unable to take a single moment more of her pity, Molly pushed past Yasha and up the stairs, into the house.

“Molly!”

He heard her call out, but he was already in the living room, where Jester was hastily standing to greet him.

“Molly! Molly wait!”

But he didn’t want to talk to her either. Rushing into his sewing room, Molly slammed the door behind him and sat in the corner in silence, half willing sleep to take him, half wishing he’d never sleep again.

* * *

The sun was little more than a melting pad of butter over the sea when Caleb finally arrived back at his apartment. Nott and Beau were both in the middle of eating takeout when he set the book down on the table in front of them.

“What’s that?” Beau asked between bites.

“I stole it.” The sentence alone was worth the look of pride on Nott’s tiny face and even the hard sock on his arm from Beau’s fist in congratulations.

“But what is it, Caleb?” Nott asked, her clutching fingers inching towards it.

“It is the book in which Molly’s friends have collected all of the clippings which they show him on his bad days. Today was a bad day.” The whole length of his drive home, Caleb had considered what he intended to do. “Molly has the capacity to truly make the most of each day he has, but I want to make the transition easier on him, ja? So I would like your help with something special. I would like to make it happen tonight, so that I can test it tomorrow.”

“Just say the word, Caleb.”

“Yeah, man, what she said.”

“Well, we are going to need a video camera and a computer and Caduceus. And a woman named Cali from Molly’s work at the tour agency…”

The work took all night. It took Beau sprinting to the tour agency just barely in time, camera on her shoulder (“I parkoured THE FUCK outta that car! It was so cool, Caleb!”) to get to Cali before her shift was over at the tour agency. It took Nott being told in no uncertain terms that the tea cups were  _ firmly _ off limits (but if she wanted the water beads that Caduceus sometimes put in his vases with flowers and foliage that was fine.). It took tea and companionship and laughter, and, despite how terrible the day had begun, Caleb ended it feeling light, lighter and happier than he had in a long time. 

It was strange, doing something so selfless. As much as he loved working with the cats, working on his book, it was ultimately self serving, a scapegoat for the fact that he’d fled the life he was living. He’d led everything he’d ever known, run away and left the smoking ruins of someone else's life in his wake. But this one thing, this he could do. This he could make easier for Molly. 

Feeling trapped was something Caleb understood intimately, and, right before wishing him goodnight, Molly had reminded Caleb of a panther, pacing within a cage, nervous and unhappy. Everytime Caleb saw such a thing, he longed to free the creature. They were wild, meant to roam the land unfettered. And Molly deserved the same chance. He deserved the option, at the least. 

And if Caleb never did another good, selfless thing in his life, at least he had done this one thing for Molly.

* * *

The single most attractive man Molly had ever seen was holding a bouquet of hyacinths and daffodils, yellows and purples and blues and he was  _ walking towards Molly. _ Molly put his fork down perplexed. “To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?”

“Oh, ah, this is a delivery for one Mollymauk Tealeaf. I am lead to understand that this is you?”

Unable to keep a salacious smile from his lips, Molly gave in, biting his lip as he reached for the flowers.   
“Forget whoever sent these. You know my name, but I don’t know yours. What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Ah, Caleb. My name is Caleb Widogast. This has arrived alone with it.”

Proffered in the Zemnian man’s hand was - “A video tape? That’s old school. I like it. What’s on it?”

“Perhaps you should go find out.”

Caduceus was watching them carefully; there was something about his expression that Molly couldn’t place. Blinking away his uncertainty, Molly reached out a hand and took the tape and the flowers from Caleb.

The moment felt significant somehow, like time was halting around them, but it was soon over and the items changed hands.

“Good Morning, Molly.” He managed to read the inscription on the case. “Huh. Who is it from?”

A shadow crossed the man’s face, but it wasn’t ominous, just suspicious. “An admirer.”

Something was pushing him. Something made Molly stand, made Molly mindlessly place the coinage on the counter by Caduceus without so much as a word, made Molly walk out of  _ The Wicked Green _ and carefully secret away both the tape and the flowers inside his tail bag, made him hop on and drive home without another thought.

Yasha was there when he got home, sitting in the living room. “Molly, what are you-“

He waved her off, sitting down in front of the tv crosslegged. “I just…need to see what’s-“

The tape popped into their now rarely used player and he fussed a little with the remote before it clicked on.

Once again, splayed on the screen were the words “Good Morning, Molly.” And a song, a familiar song, though he couldn’t place why, precisely, only that he knew it and liked it, began to play. When the next set of words appeared, he paused the tv.

“Read it to me, Yash.”

Yasha cleared her throat. “Um, it says ‘Everything is going to be okay…but here are some things you missed in the past two years…’”

Molly sat back, confused. “What the fuck.“ he pressed play.

What he saw, he could hardly understand. News reels about the power in Nicodranas and Port Demali being out for months because of a mishap with the generators beneath the ocean. War escalating between the Dwendalian Empire and Xhorhas, a seafaring smuggler known as Avantika being tried for conspiracy, The Stubborn Stock winning the Victory Pit at Harvest Close Fest in Zadash, an article about Jester’s art gallery premiere, her wedding (wedding!!!!) to Fjord…The screen flashed different things for what seemed like forever and Molly grew only more and more confused before more words appeared. He paused the screen and waited as Yasha began to speak once again.

“‘You don’t remember this because…’”

Play.

There, in high definition, was a news clipping. Molly recognized himself, laying out on the ground, surrounding almost comically by donuts, glazed in the red of his blood, his face blurred out but the tattoos made it very, very clear.

That time, Yasha didn’t need prompting. She read the heading aloud, her voice little more than a whisper. “‘HIT AND RUN LEAVES LOCAL MAN IN HOSPITAL.’ ‘INVESTIGATION PENDING.’.”

“What else.” Tears were blurring his vision. “Read me the rest. I know there’s more.”

“‘Mollymauk Tealeaf was struck by an unidentified black hummer in a hit and run. Mr. Tealeaf is unconscious, the result of traumatic brain injuries. Witnesses describe scene ‘horrific and   
avoidable’.’”

Struck dumb by shock and awe, Molly turned to Yasha and saw that behind her stood the gorgeous Zemnian man from that morning, the one who had given him the tape. Subconsciously, Molly’s hand   
drifted to his head and he could feel the scar there, right behind his horn. He turned back to the screen, the sound of the music drifting away.

_ “Okay, shit! Yeah I got this. Caleb!” _ The tinny voice from the tv was unfamiliar, but the person upon which the video focused was not. It was the Zemnian man, standing in Caduceus’ dining space.

_ “Ja, hallo, Mollymauk. I am Caleb Widogast. I assume you recognize  _ The Wicked Green _. It has been two years, so I am told, since your accident. I uh..I do not quite know how to-” _

_ “Just tell him, Caleb! You can do it! We believe in you!”  _ A new voice, higher and raspy by comparison to the first voice. The first voice seemed to be the person holding the camera, because the picture suddenly bobbed as it uttered an ‘uhuh’.

_ “Ja well, you, ah, seem to like me, quite a bit.” _

The owner of the high, raspy voice, a tiny goblin girl, darted into frame.  _ “You’re his BOYFRIEND. He just told us today! I’m so happy for you Caleb!”  _ The goblin whirled on the camera, pointing a seemingly dangerous finger at Molly through the tv set.  _ “If you hurt my boy I’ll kill you and your ghost won’t remember enough to haunt me!” _

_ “Basta! Nott! Enough!” _

_ “What she said.” _

Against his better judgement, Molly laughed. The tears he hadn’t noticed rolling down his cheeks had stopped completely.

_ “Ja, so anyways, you and I are quite fond of eachother. Boyfriends, so I am told by your Yasha. She is probably right.” _ The way his voice wavered over the word sent a shudder of pleasure down Molly’s spine and the conflicting emotions grew. He bit his lip as he watched, hands grasping the fabric of his pants roughly.  _ “You seem to like me most days. I do not know how this day has gone so far, so if you are not liking me today, then I apologize.” _

The weight of Caleb’s gaze was too much and Molly looked over his shoulder warily, just catching a glimpse of Caleb’s intense stare, before focusing back on the tv.

_ “So, this is the daily routine usually. Ah, Nott, would you take the camera from Beauregard?” _

_ “Of course...Gimme!” _

The picture shook violently, eventually steadied and then a short, buff human woman (most likely Beauregard) in blue with dark skin and a bomb undercut sat herself down in Molly’s booth while Caleb made his way out of screen and into the conservatory.

Begrudgingly, the other woman stood.  _ “I feel stupid, Caleb why’d I gotta do this?” _

_ “Because you are taller than Nott and it will film better, ja?” _

Sighing dramatically, the woman, turned to the camera.  _ “Hey. I’m Beau. Friend of Caleb’s. Sorry about your brain. That’s tough shit.”  _ She shrugged, apparently having run out of things to say and then got back up out of the booth and walked into the conservatory where Caleb was sitting in the best seat in the house, book open in his lap.

_ “Hey, I’m ‘Mollymauk Tealeaf’ what’re you rea- Gods, Caleb, seriously, do I  _ have _ to say this? Doesn’t he just go ‘hey you’re hot lets bone?’” _

_ “Nein! You are- ach! Ich möchte nicht mehr mit dir zu tun. Just sit!” _

Beauregard sat, dropping into the chair unceremoniously. From behind the camera, Nott’s voice rang loud and clear.  _ “That’s not how Molly would do it, Beau. Caleb says Molly is graceful. Like a panther! You’ve got to be sensual!” _

_ “That’s it! I’m not taking direction from her, I’m fucking OUT.” _

_ “You! Fucking sit! We’re doing this for Caleb!” _

A burst of laughter almost escaped Molly as Beau sat back down, more gracefully than before, pulled her hair out of her top bun and floofed it.  _ “Hi…” _ She practically sighed the word, light and airy.  _ “I’m Mollymauk Tealeaf. I see you got a book there. Books are…hot…what’re you reading about?” _ She paused, glanced between her friends, and when next she spoke her voice was back to it’s normal gruff depth.  _ “Was that good? Did I do good?” _

A tiny green hand fell into frame giving her a thumbs up, and she turned back to Caleb.

_ “Ah, ja, hello. I am Caleb. Widogast. I am reading about Cats. I do a lot of research on cat, because I am writing a book. This is my familiar, Frumpkin,”  _ Caleb snapped his fingers and a Bengal cat, sleek and soft, appeared in Beau’s lap, meowing loudly.  _ “I think he likes you.” _

_ “Aw shit,” _ Beau was still in her regular voice. “ _ Uh, I mean ‘aw shit’ what a cute cat!” _

_ “Ja, he is very cute. What is it that you like to do, Mollymauk?” _

_ “Uh…uh…uh…oh yeah! I like to sew. I make quilts and clothes and I ride a badass motorcycle and giving living tours of the city. D’you want to have breakfast with me?” _

_ “That sounds like it would be very nice.” _

The camera swung over to the spectral form of Caduceus behind the counter, familiar and comforting, even from behind the screen of the tv as he obliviously continued to polish his teacups.

_ “Yo! Deuces! Wave for the camera!” _

Caduceus turned abruptly, startled, the cup bouncing in his hands.  _ “Oh. Hi Molly.”  _ He said, low and slow, waving a free hand to wave.

_ “Okay that’s enough!”  _ Nott turned the camera back to Caleb.

_ “Your friends love you very much.” _

The clip jumped and suddenly, at an extreme angle from the ground up, was Caduceus, larger than life.  _ “Hi Molly. I like seeing you every day. You’re an extra ray of sunshine for my plants. And Caleb is good people. You don’t have to worry about him.” _

Another jump and there was Cali. _ “Hi Molly! I love you so much and I don’t ever want you to- oh. Oh. Um. I just want you to know that. Okay. I hope I see you soon! You make my every day brighter.” _

Back to Caleb.  _ “Your Yasha and Jester also love you. I have met them, but not Fjord. They are the best kind of people who have only wanted the best that was possible for you. They take care of you fiercely like lions care for their cubs. Your Jester socked me in the nose. She is a good egg. I like her. I wish that this was not real, and I know that you feel the same, but such is life, and I want for you to live the best of it that you possibly can because every day your remind me that the world is a place of natural miracles, and uh…you are mine.” _

_ “Oh, Caleb that’s so sweet!” _

_ “I’m gonna fucking barf, oh my g-“ _

The video cut off there.

Molly passed a hand over his face, wiping away the evidence of tears and shifted where he sat. Caleb had not looked away, and nor had Yasha.

“How many times have I seen this video?” He asked.

“This is the first time.” Yasha’s gentle tones still felt harsh, like he was being handled with kid gloves.

He stood, walking directly up to Caleb.

“Do you mean it? Do you mean what you said to me in that video?”

“Ja. Every word.”

Slowly, Molly reached for Caleb’s hand and took it in his own. “Then come with me. I want you to come with me.” 

“Where?”

“You’ll see.” 

 

Molly relished the feeling of Caleb at his back as the motorcycle zipped its way down the roads, through and around traffic. It didn’t take long, unfortunately, to reach their destination. The street was rife with scents and sounds, lined with restaurants and bakeries and small, pop-up store fronts that boasted fresh produce. Swinging into a parking spot, Molly took a deep breath, enjoying the mingled scents of cinnamon and roasting plantain and fresh breads and sage and rosemary sauces being cooked in every other café.

Caleb’s arms unwound from around him and they both slipped from the bike.

“What is this place to you?” Caleb asked, but then he went quiet and Molly was certain he’d realized. They did not speak for a few moments, the raucous, lively sounds of the market street filling the empty air around them, billowing in to take the place of all the unspoken words between them.

Grabbing Caleb’s hand again, Molly pulled him forward until they stood just across from the bakery and Molly pointed to the ground. There was no stain; two years had seen to that, but the image of himself lying half dead on the ground was emblazoned on both of their minds permanently.

“If you didn’t know, you’ve never be able to tell. I’ve passed this spot hundred of times, I imagine, if they let me go get Jester doughnuts every day. I walked over the place where I almost died, none the wiser, over and over and over. And there’s no trace. Not anymore. Just memories. Memories I don’t have.”

Caleb’s grip on his hand tightened. “I have enough memories for the both of us, I think.”

For a moment, Molly contemplated everything that he had learned in but an hour, how his entire life and worldview had been tilted on axis, how Caleb’s hand grounded him. “Forget your memories for a minute, Caleb, and just think, I’m new. I’m new all over again. Every day. A blessing and a curse. Just think, if I ever go to bed mad at you, I won’t remember it in the morning.”

Blushing furiously, Caleb nearly withdrew his hand, but Molly’s fingers were twining with his and instead he let himself be drawn back in. “Ja, but you will not remember me either. And…”

“And what?” Alert to the change in Caleb’s tone, Molly listened carefully for a hitch in breath, for anything, but nothing came.

“I would not take advantage of you. I would never. The mind, memories…they are delicate. I would never use that against you. I promise you that.”

There was something behind the sentiment, something far more than just devotion or…love…something personal.  _ Whatever it is, he will tell me when he’s ready and I will just have to trust him to do so. _ “Thank you. That means a lot. Though, even if I didn’t have this glitchy brain, I’d still probably let you take advantage of me, if you know what I mean.”

The tightening pulse in Caleb’s jaw was all the answer Molly received and he let out a laugh, happy and sad all at once and deciding simply not to care.

“We, ah…We have never been together in the afternoon before.” Caleb redirected the conversation and Molly let him, though the thought passed his mind that it was a miracle Caleb had ever gotten so far as to be standing there beside Molly at all.

“Is that so?”

“Ja. You look…you look nice. The light, it is good for you. Ah… ja.”

Molly smiled, ducking his head at the unpracticed flattery. “Morning light is too harsh, hey? Exposes all my flaws? And how do you get me to keep falling for you anyways?”

“Usually I pull out the cat. That seems to be the only guaranteed strategy. I am sure I have seemed a fool in front of you many times before, but I…” Caleb trailed off, and suddenly took an interest in the stall of summer squashes next to him.

“But you what?”

“I am emboldened by you lack of memory and encouraged by the fact that most days, when I do not approach you myself, you approach me instead, and then I know for certain that it is not just chance that you allow me to sit with you, but genuine interest. That is, ja, that is something special.”

It was Molly’s turn to blush. “I’m an unabashed attention whore. I’m sorry.”

“No, it is alright. You are rather like a cat. You want attention only when you deem it the right time, not when others deem it so. And if there is one thing I understand well, it is cats.”

Dropping his head onto Caleb’s shoulder, Molly shook with laughter. “Gods, you’re wonderful. Why couldn’t I have met you one day before the accident?”

Caleb stiffened immediately and then relaxed, slowly, in increments. “Because if you had, I would not have a captive audience for all of my cat related lectures, which all other people I know have listen to to the point of death  - not theirs, mind you. Mine. I have been threatened with death by Nott and Beauregard, you know.”

“Only in jest, I hope?”

“Ja, though with Beau, you can never be sure.” Caleb’s smirk warmed his features and Molly couldn’t help but mimic the expression.

“They seem like good people. Good friends.”

“They are.”

Molly moved his grip from Caleb’s hand to his arm and pulled him in close to his side. “Let’s walk. Let’s just walk for a bit. I want to enjoy every minute I have with you.”

“Why? I do not understand. You have only just met me.”

“No.” Molly shook his head. “I haven’t. My mind may not remember you, but my friends do. And I trust them, and I trust you because of that. So I haven’t just met you at all. You reveal yourself in ever word, in every action. You made that video, after all. That means something. It means everything to me.”

A shuddering breath ran through Caleb and Molly could tell that his words were meeting a tall, sturdy emotional wall. He didn’t push, just knocked gently, and Caleb relaxed, allowing himself to lean into Molly as they traversed the bustling world of the market street together that afternoon.

  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  



	6. 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new characters make an appearance this chapter and there's a surprise easter egg right off the bat - I assure you, I mean it in the LEAST cracky way possible. This is a legit ship.
> 
> Now contains a brief sexy scene.




I want to be every button you press

And all mouths that surround you

Yes, I’m gonna roll around you

Like a cat rolls around the chrysanthemums

I’m gonna kiss you like the sun grounds you

I want every other freckle

~ _Every Other Freckle_ by alt-J

 

“Dreams are hopeful because they exist as pure possibility. Unlike memories, which are fossils, long dead and buried deep.”

~ Shaun David Hutchinson, _We Are the Ants_

 

 

“She ran off with _who_ now?” Molly asked Jester, eyebrows skyrocketing into his hairline.

“Well, you know, after I got married, I guess Momma felt like she wasn’t tied to this place and her job and well, he just sort of literally swept her off her feet, I guess? Anyways, he’s like, some big-shot or something in Tal’dorei, I think? So they’re honeymooning in Westruun right now.”

“Yes, but what was that monster of a name you just fed me? My ears can’t believe it.”

“Oh yeah! That’s right. His name is Grog Strongjaw.” Jester sighed, leaning back into Fjord’s bare chest dreamily. “Momma and I like our men big and strong, don’t we Fjord?”

“Uh, yeah, you bet, Jessie.”

Everything was perfect. Molly was on the beach with all the people in his life. Jester and Fjord, happy to openly enjoy their status as a married couple in front of him, Bryce, Yasha and Jester’s coworker from the morgue. Yasha, of course, who had struck up a tenuous discussion with Caleb’s gruff boxer slash intern friend Beauregard who appeared in Molly’s video. And there too was Nott with Caduceus and Cali speaking with the firbolg woman who had been introduced to him as Nila, the witness to his accident, and a Shakäste, who had been the EMT first to arrive on the scene. And good old Gustav, his physical therapist along with Toya, the girl who had achieved her own first steps side by side with him when Molly was first recovering after waking in the morgue.  

Everyone had turned out to see Molly for real for the first time in two years. Two years!

The closer he looked, the more Molly could see it in them all.  The silver streak in Fjord’s hair had extended to his temples. Jester wore her wedded bliss in the fine lines around her eyes and the extra roundness of her soft cheeks.

Sad and happy all at once, Molly found himself drawn in towards Caleb, who had clammed up almost immediately. Introverted, apparently, not that that was entirely surprising. Molly sat at Caleb’s feet, back against the rock where Caleb was perched, listening to his friends share their gossip and stories, trying to catch him up on everything that he’d missed in two years’ time. It was almost easier to be with Caleb, because Caleb seemed to have the least expectations of him.  

Toya ran up, shyly, and handed Molly a crown of flowers. When he glance beyond her shoulder, he could see Caduceus smiling knowingly, hands full of blossoms.

“Thanks Toya.”

“You’re welcome, Molly.” She rasped. Biting her lip, it looked for a minute like Toya was going to dart away, but at the last second she leaned in and whispered in Molly’s ear. “Your boyfriend is looking at you like the cat who got the cream.”

Stifling his laughter with a close lipped smile, Molly brought a hand to his face, hiding the expression all together while Toya ran back to Caduceus for more flowers.

“So, wait, Molly. Caleb is your…boyfriend, right?” Cali asked, twisting the hem of her shirt as she did. “The one who made the tape?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So every day you help Molly  to realize what happened, and you wait patiently for him to be okay with it and then get him to fall in love with you again?” She asked, voice high and dreamy at the prospect.

With his tail coiled around Caleb’s ankle, Molly could feel it when the other man froze up at the word.

Love.

“He most certainly does, Cali. Have you seen him? He doesn’t have to work too hard at least, at first. I’m a shallow creature, dear, don’t forget.” Cali laughed nervously, still thrown off by Caleb’s lack of response. “No, but really. Caleb is wonderful. Truly.”

Cali didn’t linger much longer, and Molly stood, offering a hand to Caleb, after she left. “I want to meet your friends properly, Caleb. If they’re important to you, they ought to be important to me too.”

“You mean that.” Caleb’s words were half statement, half question, and Molly nodded his head.

“I do.”

Caleb took his hand and together they went to speak with Beau and Nott.

“Beauregard, Nott, this is Mollymauk.”

“Hey Molly,” Beau waved a hand in greeting, the other holding a beer around the neck of the bottle. “ ‘S cool to finally meet you.”

“Same. You made quite an impression in my video. Thanks for helping Caleb with it.”

Beau put off an aura of ‘don’t fuck with me’ so Molly simply matched her casually bobbing head instead of offering a hand and looked down to Nott, before crouching to her height.

“And let me guess. You’re the ‘mom friend’.”

“You’d better fucking believe it, buster!” Nott shook a threatening finger in his direction. “I’ll break your toes one by one and wear those pretty painted fingernails as earrings if you even _think_ about _thinking_ about hurting Caleb, got it?” Then, her eyes, lit up, glowing almost, even in the middle of the day. “And you won’t even remember _why_ it happened. So don’t fucking push it, got it?”

Bemused, Molly struggled to contain his smile, replacing it with a look of not completely insincere fear. “Understood.”

“And I’ll replace your blood, too,” she finished before tugging Caleb down by the arm so she could place a flower crown of her own on his head. “There you go, Cay-cay. Now you look very nice.”

The rest of the party passed easily and soon, when others had left for home, or the Marquesian place not far from the beach, Molly and Caleb were left alone. Palming the smartphone that had just that day been returned to him, Molly considered what he was next about to do.

“Caleb, is it alright if I film us a bit?” Molly asked, not quite sure why he felt so nervous. “I’d like to have something of us together, to remind me.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. That makes sense.” Caleb stopped, waiting as Molly pulled out the phone and set it recording.

“Hi Caleb!” He announced cheerily. “Why don’t you tell future me a bit about yourself…and present me, for that matter.”

“Oh, well, I am in research, writing a book about cats and their habits-“

“But what you _you_ , Caleb. Tell me about _you_.”

Blanking for a moment, Caleb blinked a few times and then smiled. “Ja, well, I am a wizard.” Out of his hands popped three globes of light that circled above his palm. And I-“ Flushing red, Caleb looked down, sending the lights to dance around Molly like tiny faeries. “I enjoy pulling pranks on Beauregard with Nott. She is an easy target. And I like the ocean. It is wide and open and endless and I am not-“ He stopped. “It is soothing. That is all. What else do you want to know?”

Before he could think better of it, the moment from earlier in the day blinking by him in a flash, Molly spoke. “Do you love me?” Seeing the look of panic flit across Caleb’s face, Molly hastened to backtrack. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I just-I thought-“

“No. It’s fine. I go to Caduceus’ every morning, and I see you there… I lo- love the way you smile when you see me. It makes me feel as though you recognize me. And I love the way your thread your fingers through your hair when you are nervous, like you are doing right now.”

Quick as a flash, Molly’s free hand left his hair and found its place limp at his side.

“I love the way your flush is a deep purple and how your eyes look like liquid. And I love how much you want out of life. It is good to dream. It is important. It is perhaps the most important thing, to have dreams, you know. So I love how you dream. Do not stop dreaming, Mollymauk. Not ever.”

It was an answer without answering, but Molly would take what he could get. He refused to push Caleb, who had been delicate with him all day, and longer than that, most likely. “And what about me? How do I feel about you?”

“You-you are a shameless flirt. You told me you could not read to get me to sit with you one day, you know. You come up to me, for some reason, I am not sure why, and you want to sit with me, talk with me. You baffle me, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“Sounds like a classic case of love at first sight, Caleb.” Though he spoke with the ghost of a laugh, Molly knew that Caleb could tell he was being serious. “I think I must love you.”

“If only for my cat.” There was a sparkle in Caleb’s eye and, relieved to see it there, Molly laughed, breathless.

“Yes. That’s surely it. It’s Frumpkin whose startlingly blue eyes I can’t get out of my head.”

Suddenly, Molly was leaning in, the phone forgotten and an unbearable yearning in his heart as Caleb waited, perfectly still, but breathing evenly. Eyes flickering shut, Molly reached up and lay his palm against the contours of Caleb’s cheek, rough with his beard, and drew them together for the first, first time. Caleb must have moved, for that was his hand tangling in the short curls at the back of Molly’s head, gently and softly but still present, as their lips met, parting for each other at the soft press, one tentative, the other sure. When they first parted, Molly withdrew no more than a few centimeters and he could feel Caleb’s warm breath as they hung in one another’s orbit perpetually, existing. Just existing. And then, Caleb closed the distance once more. No more passionate than the first, the second kiss was slow and tender, a moment made infinite by the simple joy of holding one another close.

“Nothing,” Molly said as he drew back. “Beats a first kiss.”

 

**_The Nth ‘First’ Kiss:_ **

Gods, but had he ever experienced something as perfect as Caleb’s lips against his own? Molly knew that – as long as he, Mollymauk, had existed -  he’d been a phenomenal kisser. Which probably meant that his previous self was too, but he tried to forget about that. It didn’t figure much in his mind at that moment anyways, because he was ever so slowly inching his hands down Caleb’s back as their lips parted and moved against one another. They’d had a spectacular day, or at least they had once Molly had his hour of so of readjustment. The tape was a phenomenal idea, but they’d discussed migrating it to his phone that morning, so that anytime there was something new, he had it right away. And he’d begun keeping a video journal, so that he could remind himself daily of what had transpired. After, Caleb took him to the sanctuary, where he’d been allowed to sit with the big cats, even _pet_ them, once Caleb had worked his magic. But even having a gigantic panther lying belly up for tummy rubs was nothing compared to the hot, solid line of Caleb’s body against his. Caleb was shy - he’d told himself as much in his video from a couple days prior, but he was slowly growing more confident with Molly. Each day, he reported so to himself, and it was fascinating to live vicariously through his own video diaries, but he still longed for more.

In the moment of course, it didn’t matter, because those were Caleb’s hands in his hair again, with just the slightest tug and _oh_ , if that didn’t send a shiver of arousal of Molly’s spine. Pulling back for a breath, Caleb smiled at Molly.

“Oh, Hallo.”

“Hello, yourself.”

Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. And _so_ worth it.

“Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“ _Nothing_ , beats a first kiss, darling.”

 

**_The Second Nth ‘First’ Kiss:_ **

Every time was like the first time for Molly, and, in some ways, it translated over to Caleb. Though he was quickly learning what Molly liked, it was obvious that even muscle memory could not provide Molly with the same ability. Interestingly enough, he went about it a different way every time. And it was always Molly who took the first step. Caleb was not sure he would ever feel comfortable initiating anything between them. Not that they’d had any bad days before - now that the video was in place, Molly tended towards enthusiastically launching himself into the relationship, holding Caleb’s hand constantly, which Caleb had told him was always alright, but other touches Molly asked about. Including kisses.

He imagined that it must be strange to watch oneself tell oneself all about dating someone they didn’t remember in the morning, but Caleb didn’t ask. It was clear that Molly wanted to spend as much time possible really, genuinely enjoying their time together.

_“I want to make the most of it, Caleb, before I forget. Why are you doing this again?”_

_“Because you are wonderful, Molly, and I enjoy to spend time with you.”_

_“So it’s not just my ass then?”_

_“You are impossible.”_

_“But you’re still dating me.”_

_“Ja, I am.”_

And so, they were kissing again. This time, sitting, which was certainly new for them both. Molly was straddling him on the bench in the park, both hands on his face as he pressed into Caleb’s form, and Caleb could do little other than hold him in return, meeting the kiss at Molly’s pace, deep and languid and slow. It felt impossible and forever and when Molly pulled back, Caleb looked up at him in awe. Eyes shining in the low glow of the streetlamp, Molly seemed ethereal, sublime, elemental.

“See something you like?” He asked, voice dangerously low and he shifted his svelte body over Caleb.

“Ja. You. I like you.”

“I like you too.”

And then, Molly rested his forehead on Caleb’s shoulder, and simply breathed.  “Caleb?”

“Ja, Molly?”

“Nothing-”

_Beats a first kiss._

“-beats a first kiss.”

“No. Nothing.”

 

**_The Third Nth ‘First Kiss’:_ **

“Can I kiss you, Caleb?”

Caleb’s face softened and he smiled, holding out a hand, which Molly took. They’d just left dinner - Marquesian - and were walking along the docks. The breeze was little balm against the sticky humidity, but the air was salty and clean.

“If you like, you may.”

“I _would_ like.” Inwardly, Molly preened. It felt significant somehow that Caleb would allow him such a gift. Molly certainly _felt_ like he knew Caleb, all those video diaries had certainly seen to that, but Molly couldn’t help but wonder how it felt to Caleb, to have someone who considered him a stranger kiss him out of what could easily have been little more than novelty. Before he drew Caleb towards him, Molly stopped and looked up in concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to-”

“I am sure. If you are not, it is no hardship, Mollymauk. We do not do this always. Only sometimes.”

Molly rolled his eyes and pouted. “Only sometimes? Can’t we kiss more often? I like kissing. And I apparently really like kissing you, so I tell myself. Maybe I should tell myself to kiss you more often? I mean, I don’t really know what I’m thinking, _“not kissing you”._  Ha! You’re...well… Gods, you’ve got to be the single most understanding boyfriend in all Exandria. I-”

It was then that he noticed Caleb was frowning. “Do not. Do not be harsh with yourself for something over which you have no control. I am trying to be a good boyfriend, but that doesn’t not mean I am always. Do not put me on a pedestal, or make yourself low. I do not like to hear you speak that way of yourself.” Tenderly, Caleb brushed a strand of hair from his face. “Regardless of the state of your memory, I would be with you now. The first time you asked me to breakfast with you, I agreed, and I was ignorant of the entire situation, and yet here we are. It has been three months since that first day you saw me. I am going nowhere, Mollymauk.”

With that, Caleb pulled him in quick and kissed him hard. It left Molly to moan a bit through the kiss, the press firm and unyielding and he drowned in the sensation. When they pulled apart, they were both breathing heavily.

“Wow.” The word slipped from Molly’s lips like a sigh. “Nothing’ll ever beat _that_ for a first kiss!”

Before he could even regain his breath, Caleb kissed him again.

Molly only wished he would have the time and opportunity to get used to it.

He didn’t.

 

**_The Fourth Nth ‘First’ Kiss:_ **

Over the past months, Caleb and Nott and Beau had gotten to know Molly, Yasha, Jester and Fjord quite well. Well enough that Caleb should have foreseen what occurred at Jester and Fjord’s post-wedding party. It began with Nott refusing the invitation. Fjord was borrowing his boss’s leisure-mini yacht for the occasion, and Nott despised the water. Which meant that the only guests were Fjord, Jester, Molly, Yasha, Beau and Caleb himself.

First there was alcohol. None for Fjord, because he was the one ‘in command of the vessel’. Molly was inherently skeptical of that and had made his feelings on the matter well known, but between them, Jester got drunk enough to cover Fjord. And because it was their post-wedding party, and they had yet to leave for their honeymoon (though planning was officially in the works, now that Molly was in the loop) they ended up kissing.

And then, because they’d been independently pining over one another since their first meeting at the party on the beach and the undeniable fact that Beauregard was a raging lesbian with a massive crush on Molly’s best friend, the alcohol wore down their nerves and Yasha and Beau started kissing.

And so, Molly crept up on Caleb, spun him up against the vee of the bow, pressed himself in close and went for it.

“I’m going to make out with you, because you’re gorgeous and kind and I don’t know how I’ve managed to convince you that this is worth your-”

He was cut off when Caleb kissed him hard. The warmth of the alcohol had been sitting low and comforting in his belly, and Caleb had almost been waiting for Molly to pounce. All his observations of cats had leant Caleb to observing Molly, and he knew now the tells, the twitch of his tail, the tick of energy at the corner of his mouth, yes, Caleb knew them all, and he knew when Molly wanted a kiss, knew exactly what kiss it was Molly wanted.

There were certain benefits to remembering everything with perfect clarity.

Each and every one of Molly’s first kisses with Caleb definitely fell into that category.

They broke apart after a bit, but Caleb held Molly close. “Liebling,” he said, the name dropping from his lips without a second thought. “You are fogging up my glasses.”

Molly laughed, a glistening sound like the sunlight on the waves. He lifted the tortoise shell frames from Caleb’s face and held them at his side and pressed in for another kiss. It was quick and sweet, and there was obviously more where it had come from, but Caleb felt Molly pulling away again.

“What is it, Mollymauk?”

“What does ‘liebling’ mean, Caleb?”

“It is like, um, darling.”

“Oh. Well,” he cleared his throat. “Liebling. There’s nothing like a first kiss, out here on the ocean with you.”

He was right. There was nothing like it in the world.

 

* * *

The roof of _The Wicked Green_ was a surprisingly atmospheric place. Unlike many of the roofs in Nicodranas, which Jester often lamented were wasted space (theirs, of course, was not), Caduceus’ was a fully functioning living space. He had a garden, kept bees and, apparently, as they got to know him better, kept a shrine to Melora in the center of the space. There was also a wicker table and chairs, for when his sisters came to visit, but he’d lent it out to Caleb and Molly that night. Dinner was simply takeout, but they both were yearning for privacy that no where else could afford. Around the small, portable fire pit, they sat together in comfortable silence.

As each day passed, Molly’s understanding of Caleb and their relationship blossomed. The video journals were like presents that he opened each morning. That morning, he hadn’t cried. Jester told him that it was the first morning he hadn’t cried when he found out, and it made Molly nervous. Not bad nervous, just...nervous. Like something had changed. Like something was _about_ to change. With each entry, he could physically see himself grow more and more excited about the prospect of spending part of his day with Caleb.

But it wasn’t just that. It was a myriad other things as well. It was the fact that his quilt top was near completion, that he’d started another of blues and gold and burnt oranges, of all the things that reminded him of Caleb. And a small wall hanging of Frumpkin too. It was that he spent time with Bo and The Knot sisters and the others from work before he’d been forced to quit. It was that he was _giving_ tours again.

Molly was _living_ and it felt good. It felt right.

But there was still that edge, as though he and Caleb were on the cusp of something important. Something new.

Lost in his thoughts, Molly almost didn’t notice when Caleb laid a hand over his. It was so warm in the room that he felt about the same temperature as the air.

“Molly?”

“Hmm? Sorry, Caleb, I was thinking.”

“Happy thoughts, I hope?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Caleb, holding his hand, looked deeply into the fire. “I...I have...quatsch. It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“I have things to tell you.”

“What things?”

Losing interest in the fire, Caleb looked away, out of the light glow of the city. “It is stupid.”

“I doubt it. Everything I know about you tells me just how smart you are,” Molly replied earnestly. “Tell me? Please?”

When Caleb looked back at him, he tightened his grip on their hands closed his eyes and began to speak.

 

_Liebst du mich?_

_Ob ich dich liebe? Ich weiß es nicht_

_und wage nicht, es zu wissen._

_Ich fürchte alle Nachteile dieser Gewißheit_

_und will auch mit den Vorteilen nicht leben müssen._

_Ich halte schon die Frage für gelogen_

_und fühlte mich um all meine Zweifel betrogen,_

_wüßte ich eine Antwort. Ich schweige nicht,_

_mir sind nur, Geliebte, die Sinne benommen._

_Ich kann nie genug bekommen von meiner_

_Unvollkommenheit, vom Licht, wenn es verlöscht,_

_und von den Rätseln der Ruhe in deinen Augen._

_Wie wenig dann Worte taugen!_

_Was an mir sterblich ist, nimm es dir._

_Es gehört keinem, nicht einmal mir._

 

When he was done speaking, Caleb took a deep breath, and opened his eyes. They were glistening. While he hadn’t understood a word of the Zemnian, the tone of Caleb’s voice said it all. The emotion lingered, the moment crystallized like molasses on a cold day.

“That was…” Breathless, Molly paused. “That was beautiful. What-can I ask, what does it mean?”

“I-I…” Caleb stuttered, turning red. Jerkily, his hand pulled from Molly’s. “Ask me again, sometime. Put it in your video journal to ask me again someday.”

Trying not to feel bereft at the lack of Caleb’s hand, Molly only nodded. “I understand. It’s alright not to want to tell me. It’s okay. I will. Put it in my journal, I mean.” After a few moments, the discomfort passed, the sparking of the fire and the gentle swaying of leaves in the warm wind soothing the mood. “Caleb, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” There was still a certain reticence in Caleb’s tone, but Molly pressed forward anyways.

“We’ve been...getting more comfortable with each other. I feel, well, from listening to my journals, you know, it seems like every day I’m...oh, fuck, I’m just- Caleb I’m not really that good at this. I’ve never had a real boyfriend, you know?” It felt like confessing, and then, suddenly and irrationally, Molly felt the urge to laugh. What if he’d already confessed as much to Caleb before and just didn’t know it?

Caleb seemed to read his mind. “I did not know that, Mollymauk.”

“Well I haven’t. Not that I can remember at least. I know that I’ve told you my history, you know, the whole thing with waking up a John Doe in the morgue?”

“Ja, I know.” Endlessly patient. That was the perfect phrase to describe Caleb.

“Well, anyways, I just...I’ve never had a boyfriend. But I’ve had sex. Lots of it. I’m not ashamed of that, but I guess I just - I’m ready. There’s emotional value in my attachment to you. Sure, every morning when I get my first look at you in my video I think ‘gods, what a man’, but it’s more than that. I can _see_ my face, Caleb, I can _see_ what I look like when I talk about you and all of those emotions, they just keep growing video by video and it’s all compounded and I _know_. I just know that I’m ready. To take that step. With you. But what I don’t know is if you’re ready.” Caleb blanched and immediately, Molly drew back, nerves ramping up to one hundred. “Obviously I’m jumping the gun. “ He laughed, embarrassed and flustered. “I’m going to put this conversation in my journal, and you can tell me later what you decide. Don’t rush on my account. I can wait. Anything good is worth waiting for. And I will wait for you. I’m- I’ve ruined our night, I’m -”

“You did not ruin our night, Mollymauk. I will think on what you said. I will give you an answer, but...not tonight. Not tonight.”

“Okay.”

They sat together in relative silence for a good, long while. Eventually, Caleb’s hand reached for Molly’s again and they ended the night there without speaking another word until they got up to go home.

* * *

That night, Caleb lay awake in bed for many long hours, staring at the ceiling. Beau had long since gotten over teasing him about Molly, since he was now free to tease her about Yasha – they’d been attending the same gym for two years and never spoken a word to each other, he’d discovered, so it was less surprising that, once introduced, they’d gotten along splendidly. Even Nott had less to say about Caleb’s love life in the time that had passed. He got a cursory ‘How was your night? How is Molly doing?’ any time he came home from a date, but she never pressed, something for which Caleb was infinitely grateful in especially that moment, after the conversation that Molly had put to him.

He’d been…sparse…for lack of a better word with the things he’d told Nott about his past. She was smart and certainly had an inkling, but he had never spoken the words. He’d never spoken the words aloud to anyone before.

And if it went badly with Molly, he wouldn’t have to do it again, so that was a plus. On the other hand, there was the very real possibility that he would be turned away completely, that Molly would never wish to see him again. And, should that happen, Caleb would take him at his word, and leave. He’d leave on his trip. The trip, which he’d begun to press off, farther and farther -  not that anyone seemed particularly upset, what with Beau’s new relationship and Nott…well, Nott would go wherever Caleb did. Of course, that hinged on her knowing that he was leaving in the first place.

But there was still the matter of actually telling Mollymauk.

All that night, Caleb did not sleep a wink, certain that if he did, the dreams would come.

When morning came, he waited in bed for the snap that Molly would inevitably send him.

_Goodmorning, Sunshine! I can’t believe we’re dating!_

Normally, such things made Caleb smile. It was almost impossible to look at Molly’s bedhead and wide grin and _not_ smile. Instead, he slammed the phone face down on the bed. Immediately regretting it, Caleb picked the phone up and laid it back down, face up, more gently. Molly deserved better. Molly deserved honesty.

Molly deserved the truth.

And just like that, he had his answer.

 

Later, at _The Wicked Green,_ Caleb slid into the booth across from Mollymauk, who smiled wickedly at him. “Goodmorning, tiger! Do I ever call you that? I feel like it would be something I’d call you. I had a pretty decent morning after I realized I was going to be spending it with you! Did we have a nice time last night? I mentioned some things in my video diary…” Concern scribed Molly’s expression. “I didn’t push too hard or far, did I? It’s, well, it’s exciting, knowing that I have all of this – “ He spread his arms wide for a minute and then, when they swooped back down, gulls from the sky, they perched on the table just inches from Caleb’s hands, as though they were going to creep towards him.

“-leb? Caleb?” His darkened mood was clear. “You…don’t look happy…”

“After what we discussed last night…what did you, well, what was it that you mentioned in your video?”

Molly smiled, lips twitching and Caleb paused, confused.

“Sorry, it’s just that your accent is gorgeous, sorry.” He resettled himself. “Sorry. You’re trying to say something important. You wanted to know what I told myself, right?” Caleb nodded, quietly full of worry. “I…broached the topic of us…being intimate with each other. I, uh, you said you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“I cannot be ready until you hear what I have to tell you. I want you to record it. So that I do not have to repeat it again for you.

Molly’s hands crept forward, scant centimeters away and then he lay them gentle over Caleb’s. “I’ll listen. I listen to whatever you have to say. And I’ll record it, if that’s what you really want. I’m _living_ , Caleb, and I will listen if you think it is important.”

“You will wait for me to finish speaking? Before you add anything?”

Molly nodded emphatically.

“When I was a young man,” (Here, Molly’s nose crinkled.) “in Zemni, I worked very hard in school, and I was gifted magically, that became clear to the recruiter from the Solstryce Academy. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes. Fjord was going to go there, but he couldn’t afford it.”

“I was one member of a club for wizards. We participated in Arcane Decathlons. That was how he came to discover us. It was not just me. There were others in the club as well. A girl and a boy, my very dearest friends. Astrid and Eodwulf. He offered us scholarships to the Academy, and we took them. We had very little you see, my parents, Astrid and Eodwulf’s parents, so our parents were relieved. We were recognized for our talents. We were going to make something of ourselves. We were going to make our parents proud. Make our town proud and all the people in it. We would elevate them.”

Shivering a bit from the memories, Caleb looked away from the contrast of lavender hands on his. Sickened by the very idea of tainting Molly’s innocent goodness, Caleb only just resisted drawing them back into his lap.

“What happened?” The soft strains of Molly’s voice lilted hauntingly.

“We went to the school, that is what happened. Archmage Ikithon…the recruiter…he was, em, very strict with us, you see. But we wanted to learn. We yearned for it. It was…like a drug, to be pushed to our limits, to reach them and then exceed them, over and over again, the greatest high that you can imagine is power, Mollymauk, and the three of us grew very powerful.”

Caleb felt Molly flinch at the word, felt the change in the mood.

“Caleb, are you sure you want to speak here?” Molly’s voice was a tremulous thing, and Caleb imagined not even the most beautiful wings on a butterfly could compare. He hadn’t met Molly’s gaze in a long time and when he finally looked up he could see that the expression was just as delicate; Molly’s lashes were trembling and his breath was shallow, a mimicry, Caleb knew of his own physical state, which he’d, up until then been attempting to ignore.

“You must hear this and I do not know where else-”

“The roof. We’ll ask Clay for the roof. He won’t mind. He won’t mind.”  The gentle weight of Molly’s hand on his turned to a vice grip as Molly physically drew him up and over to the counter. Caleb barely heard Molly ask for access to the roof, felt only the tug as he was dragged bodily towards the stairs and then led gingerly up them to sit in one of the wicker chairs just as they had the night before.

Molly’s stranglehold on his hand did not lessen. When Caleb’s heart settled back into his chest, he took a deep breath and continued, settling into the drawing dark of the memory.

“You were saying you grew…powerful…”

“We were, erm, fast-tracked, I guess you would call it. Trent – that is, Ikithon – he pushed us.” Caleb knew he was repeating himself, avoiding reaching the part of the story that heralded the point of no return.  “We were brought into this…private group. A secret society of students. It-we- you must understand that we were egoists. He told us we were the best and then beat us down to build us up farther and farther. We were better than others because he told us we were better than others. We wanted to please him. We wanted to outdo him.”

“And something went wrong?”

Only nodding, Caleb went on. “Trent had confided in us that he worked for King Dwendal, you know, that our secret society was like a training level for his group of personal mages in Dwendal’s service. That we had been hand-picked to serve in his direct intelligence network. That we would have jobs out of college, that our families would be taken care of. We were sent home, before graduation, one last hurrah before we left everything behind, you know.”

“Caleb, this is starting to sound a bit like a cul-“

“I ask you, please, do not stop me.” Immediately, Molly shut his mouth, the clack of teeth loud in the silence. Briefly, he wondered what Molly was thinking. He’d barely had any time to truly come to an understanding of what was happening between them. Usually there was a marked change in Molly’s behaviour towards the middle of the day. He either began with forced happiness, genuine joy or careful wariness.

“My parents were good people, Mollymauk. Wunderbar people. I loved them so much. They wanted always the best for me. They slaved for me to have the best things, even when we could not afford them. But when I was home I heard them speaking of a meeting. I was curious. I followed. I found Astrid there, as well, and Eodwulf together. We were curious, you know, like children are. _‘Neugierige Katzen verbrennen sich die Tatzen, Caleb.’_ That was always what my parents always told me. Curious cats burn their paws.”

That phrase. That phrase burned his lungs and scalded his throat. It seared him through.

“I burned by paws that day.”

Molly waited patiently as Caleb gathered his courage.

“They spoke of counterintelligence and espionage and I couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand that there was some underground rebellion against Dwendal in my own little hometown. I burned with anger. I wanted – we were so desperate to prove ourselves worthy and loyal and powerful. We wanted – I wanted… We made plans, the three of us, together. How we would go about it. What we would do to end this treasonous activity. I…I could not stop.”

Practically vibrating with nervous energy as he was, Caleb thought Molly might vault from the chair, but he remained, as if in some suspended animation, jittering as he listened with rapt attention to Caleb’s every word.

“We decided to wait for them at home. You see, each of us…we had our skills, we were each strong in different areas. Astrid…she liked poison. Astrid _was_ poison. I see that now. I did not before. Me…I wa-I _am_ fire. I did not just burn my paws. I burned my parents too.”

There was silence and then a wretched noise as Molly turned away from him and Caleb’s heart fell, even though Molly’s grip did not waver.

“I have been running a long time. I got out from under his thumb that day, though I did not mean to. I, um, broke a bit. Or more than a bit, I guess. They sent me to a place for broken people and I stayed there a long time. Eventually I found out that he was…he was manipulating us. With magic. But I wanted it. I wanted them to die. I believed in his cause and I did not want to stop. It was too late by the time…it was too late. I do not remember my twenties, so I suppose that at least you and I have that much in common. But-“

A wilting laugh tumbled from Molly’s lips and he caught Caleb’s gaze as he knocked his head back. “Gods. Gods, Caleb. This is…and I keep thinking that my shit is going to scare _you_ away. It’s the past. If there’s one thing I don’t care about, it’s the past. I know that I told you, a while back, about how I met Jester and Yasha, right?”

“Ja…” Caleb replied, tentative and confused.

“I don’t care. You are who you are now, and alright, obviously this stuff bothers you, or you wouldn’t have felt the need to tell me, but, Caleb! You _did_ . You wanted me to know. You weren’t trying to hide it from me. So what you did doesn’t matter to me for me. It only matters to me _for you_ . For your sake. If you need me to care about you caring about your past, I will. But every day you keep proving to me that you’re worth my time, and if Yasha even had a hint of anything bad, you _know_ -“

“Ja. I would want her to.”

“And that’s why this doesn’t bother me. It makes me sad, because it is sad, and because I know that you are sad, but, Caleb, you regret. And that’s...that’s enough for me.”

“And you would forgive the man who ran you over, if he professed regret? I do not-“

“It’s enough, Caleb. I’ve decided already. It’s enough. I’ll…I’ll deal with the rest of it later. You were young. A child. He manipulated you. You admitted that much. So don’t try and tell me anything about how you wanted to. That’s duress. I know what duress is. I watch _Law and Order: Zadash_.”

He almost snorted. Instead, sitting still, internally fighting the words passing his ears, Caleb just focused on his breathing.

“Caleb. You can’t burn me. You can never burn me. I’m a tiefling.”

Caleb laughed.

He guffawed.

He cried.

The hand over his squeezed strong. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Caleb. I’ve got you.”

He lifted his head out of his lap where it had fallen and removed his hand from Molly’s, standing. “I must go home now. I am going to work on my book, and you should think on all I have told you and then, tomorrow, we can speak again, if you still want to.”

One finely arched brow twitched. “That doesn’t sound like you anticipate me to want to.”

“Tomorrow you are new again. You may not want to.”

“Caleb…do you expect me to listen to this every day, along with everything else?”

“Ja. You are not making informed choices otherwise. I cannot do that to you.”

There was a heavy silence before Molly spoke again.

“This is about my consent, isn’t it.” There was no hint of a question in Molly’s words. “You didn’t want to take that step with me because I didn’t know about this. And you don’t want to unless I _always_ know about it.”  

“I will not sleep with you unless you are fully aware of the disgusting things that I have done, and the disgusting person that it makes me.” Caleb’s retort was a missile fired straight to Molly’s heart and he watched as Caleb went back down the steps to the shop below, leaving Molly behind and utterly alone.

* * *

Every morning went something like this:

Molly woke up, usually directly in a golden shaft of soft, warm sunlight, rolled over amidst his pillows (sometimes out of a drool puddle, yuck) and saw the phone sitting on his side table with a little sign that said ‘watch the video’. It was in his own handwriting and it completely threw him for a loop. He would pick up the phone, unlock it and click into his gallery. There was a folder in the Gallery that read ‘watch these’, leaving him even more confused. He would open the folder and click on each video, some labeled ‘me first or nothing will make any sense’ and others ‘7th – this is an important one’ and then there was the last one. ‘You must watch this video no matter what’. Always, he started at the beginning, and usually he cried as one by one he made his way through the video diary to the end. The final entry.

_“Molly. Me. Hey. Caleb talked to me about some stuff today. It’s…it’s an answer to the question in the last video. The one I said he’d let me know the answer to… he made me promise to add the whole conversation. So I can hear it again and make the decision every day.”_

That morning, Molly listened to his conversation with Caleb on Caduceus’ roof, and he understood. He understood Caleb in a way he hadn’t even the day before – not that he knew that, of course. But he did. And it hurt.

It hurt like he could only imagine getting hit dead on by a hummer hurt.

When he was done thinking, Molly closed the gallery and opened his messages, clicking on Caleb’s thread.

_Goodmorning, Sunshine! 7:30am_

_I can’t believe we’re dating! 7:30am_

_7:37am. Guten Morgen._

_7:37am I will see you at Caduceus’._

 

Thumbs hovering, Molly made his decision.

 

_I want to see you this morning. 7:49am_

_Can I pick you up? 7:50am_

_Caleb is typing…_

 

_Caleb is typing…_

 

_Caleb is typing…_

 

_7:54am Ja._

 

Molly pulled up to Caleb’s apartment complex half an hour later. He hadn’t showered, or even bothered with washing his face. He’d thrown on clothes, given up on his humidity induced curls, laced up his combat boots and hopped on the bike.

The apartment complex wasn’t one of the better ones. The front door was never locked and he made his way inside and up without having to ring in. Two floors down from Caleb and Nott’s door, Molly breezed past an open door, only realizing when he was half through to the stairwell that Beau was leaning up against the threshold. He turned and looked back to see her watching him.

“Hey Molls.”

“Hi. You’re Beauregard.”

“Beau, yeah. You watched your videos?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Caleb told us that we wouldn’t be seeing you again. He’s been holed up in his room. You know anything about that?” She had her arms crossed in front of her, a dead serious calm infusing her entire body, which was at the same time taut with tension, a spring coil ready to release at any time.

“No. I don’t. I texted him this morning and told him I was picking him up.”

There wasn’t even a flash of uncertainty across her face.

“Alright.”

It was all she said before pushing off of the door jamb with her back and disappearing back inside her flat. Molly continued up the stairs, each level adding to the weight in his heart until he was before Caleb and Nott’s door, his fist poised, knuckles to rap upon the hollow wood when it flew open before him. His eyes trailed down the length of his straight, thin nose and found Nott below, looking up.

“Caleb came out of his room this morning. I don’t know what happened, but you did good. Now get in here and talk to my boy. He’s in the study.”

Molly gave her the briefest breeze of a nod before allowing her to lead him to the room, considering that he couldn’t remember where it was. He’d only made it to the apartment because he’d left himself the address in Caleb’s contact information.

A ghost of memory, Molly stood in the hall, looking at Caleb’s study through the archway of the door. He could not see Caleb, but he could hear him moving sight unseen. A few more, light, shuffling sounds of paper and the thump of a closing book. Caleb streamed across his vision, liquid copper with his hair down, instead of in the loose bun that Molly’d seen in the pictures on his phone, tortoiseshell rimmed glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. Molly’s heart ached, but he put it aside.

“Good Morning.”

Caleb startled, looking up with a toss of his sunset hair. It was better than the pictures, those clear, bluest blue eyes.

“Mollymauk. You came.”

“I said I’d pick you up. Can I come in?”

“Ja.”

The inside of Caleb’s domain was simple and beautiful, rustic almost. Warm and cozy and inviting, it smelled of black tea and ink. Immediately, Molly went up to him and kissed him. He didn’t ask. He just did.

Caleb pulled back. “What is that for?”

“I love you, Caleb.”

Stony faced, Caleb did not move an inch.

“I love you, Caleb.” Molly said again, waiting for anything.

“How can you?”

“You don’t hate someone you love because they were hurt. And I can tell that I love you. So I know it. I know that I do because I have the evidence of it, every day. And you _were_ hurt. I don’t want to be sad, Caleb. I want to be happy, and I want you to be happy with me. You did bad things. You did something terrible, but you were a kid being manipulated by a man you looked up to, and you regret what you did and I love you for it all. Every moment, good or bad. Your past doesn’t matter. I love you.”

That time, Caleb kissed him, quick and fast as if, were he to go too slow, he might stop himself.

“I do not deserve it.” The gruff tonal quality of Caleb’s voice made Molly burn in a whole different way. “But I want it. Your love.”

“Then you have it.”

Out of the blue, Caleb began to speak, in rhythmic measures, still standing in close with Molly.

 

_“Do you love me?_

_Do I love you?_

_I don’t know and do not dare to know it._

_I fear all the disadvantages of this certainty_

_and I do not want to live with the benefits._

_I think the question is a lie_

_And felt cheated out of all my doubts,_

_I would know an answer._

_I am not silent. Beloved, my senses are only dazed_

_I can never get enough of you, my imperfection,_

_and of the light, if it goes out,_

_and the puzzles of calm in your eyes._

_How little good words are!_

_What's mortal about me, take it._

_It does not belong to anyone, not even me._

 

Take what is mortal of me, Mollymauk. I give it to you freely.”

It was the poem. The poem that he’d mentioned in his video diaries, and Molly knew what it meant.

“I love you, Mollymauk.”

“I love you, too.”

 

Soft is the colour of love.

* * *

Night fell. The day had been warm, but the night was gentled by the breeze. Since the morning, they had not parted. In the blue twilight on the docks, they kissed and murmured, embracing sweetly. Something was altered between them; they could feel it, and everyone around them seemed to be heightened to the adjustment in their planar orbits, falling into place perfectly. When the motorcycle pulled up in the late evening at the Rowhouse Molly shared with the others, not a light burned, nor a sound could heard from within.

Without words, Molly led Caleb by the hand through the house. He went willingly, easily,   _freely_ , unburdened by the years of fear and shame and guilt. There was only Mollymauk and Caleb.

Molly sat on the edge of his bed, watching Caleb, who stood in the doorway, that precipice between the past and the future. One slender hand extended towards him. Compelled, Caleb went to him, his fingers finding Molly’s in the glow of moonlight. Warm, their heartlines connected, the slow steady thrum of tender acceptance and not the quick thrill of fear.

Stopping when he came to stand in the vee of Molly’s legs, Caleb looked down into Molly’s open face, lips parted, lashes on the slow descent down to brush cheeks. Slowly, Molly brought their joined hands to his own cheek, twisting his above Caleb so that Caleb’s palm could rest flush against his skin.

“I don’t want to forget you.” The whisper rent the silence, and Caleb, eyes burning hot with new tears, could only relish the feeling of Molly’s cheek below his hand, and Molly’s hand pressing it there over his own. He rubbed his thumb lightly there.

“Then let us live as much as we can now, while you can remember.”

Molly moved Caleb’s hand from where it rested, drawing his fingers down the side of his neck, over the peacock feather and down his neck, over to his chest, exposed by the partially unbuttoned white shirt.

Gingerly, one handed, Caleb undid the rest of the buttons and the shirt fell open exposing a light silver spiderwebbing of bisecting scars. Caleb wanted to know each one. Rolling his shoulders back, the shirt fell from Molly’s form, pooling around him on the bed with all the softness of a cloud, inviting Caleb to the expanse of his chest.

“Touch me, Caleb. I want this with you.” Serious and low, Molly’s voice was sure. “Please.”

He did not have to ask twice. With an incline of his head, Caleb assented and Molly’s hands came to rest on his waist, pulling him in closer.

“Mollymauk…” Caleb sighed his name. Molly’s nose brushed just above his navel and then, suddenly, Molly’s head was resting on his chest and they were breathing together as one as Molly slowly worked Caleb’s shirt from the waistband of his pants. Hands crept up his torso, and Molly felt him shiver beneath the tender ministrations.

“I love you. I love you.” Molly pushed the shirt up, pulling away just long enough to help Caleb remove it, and then his cheek was pressed onto Caleb’s skin, soft breaths leaving a trail of goosebumps on his belly and his hands returned to Caleb’s waist.

Weak, Caleb put a hand in Molly’s hair and he felt it when Molly sucked in a breath. “Liebling…”

They stayed like that, breathing, holding one another. “I want to remember this, Caleb. I want to remember everything. But I can’t.”

“Then I will remember it for you.”

Hands. Hands soothing, gripping, grasping.

Breaths. Breaths soft, hitching, sighing.

A kiss. Molly pressed one right to the side of Caleb’s navel, gave a breathy laugh, and leaned backwards, pulling Caleb with him until they both lay on the bed together, a tangle of legs and arms and loose locks of hair. The weight of Caleb on top of him was reassuringly tangible, a blessed reminder that it would be real, if only for a time.

Looking up at Caleb, Molly saw the moon catch in his eyes, and they glowed for a moment, a beautiful, stunning aquamarine. Caleb was looking back down at him in a similar fashion, he imagined, expression fixed in awe. Lifting his head, Molly pressed his lips to Caleb’s, hands moving of their own volition to tangle and thread into Caleb’s hair.

Caleb’s forearms bracketed Molly’s head as he leaned into the kiss, relishing their closeness, the feel of Molly’s heart beating right beneath his own a tandem thrumming of vitality and soul.

“Stay, tonight. Please.”

Timidity did not suit Molly, but boldness did, and if his voice wavered, Caleb did not mention it.

“Forever.”

Unhurriedly, they shed the remainder of their clothing, the lines of their bodies pressing together, sometimes ungainly, hip bones sharp, and yet in others like fitted pieces. Foreheads touching, Molly hooked his ankles around Caleb’s calves, as they rocked together in a languid, unhurried pace.

Molly closed his eyes, overwhelmed by sensation, bittersweet tears beading at the corners of his eyes, but he held them at bay, a quiet joy welling within him as the pace quickened. His eyes flew open, starburst white light blinding in the back of his brain and he clutched at Caleb who was trembling above him.

“Stay, stay, stay, stay…” He begged desperately. Caleb continued to shake, the muscles in his arms falling lax and Caleb let himself come to lay over Molly, face buried in at the curve of Molly’s neck, arms weakly shifting so he could have even the slightest bit of contact.

After a few moments, the trembling subsided and Caleb shifted to the side. Immediately, Molly rolled over to him, captured his lips in a kiss, before drawing back again. Minutes felt like the frozen crystal of a hour, but eventually, Caleb stirred his gaze finding Molly, traveling his shadow draped form with appreciation.

“I will clean us up, liebling, and then I will stay.”

Molly nodded in acknowledgement, mind drifting as Caleb’s weight lifted from the mattress. It seemed no time at all before the soft drag of the damp cloth caressed his stomach, the intimately tender gesture leaving him as breathless as ever. And yet, it felt like an eternity before Caleb was beside him once more, the mattress dipping and Caleb’s arms welcoming him into a warm embrace.

“I love you. Don’t let me forget, Caleb. Please, don’t let me forget.”

“I will remember this forever. You are mein Hertz, my heart. Ich liebe dich, Molly. I love you. Now, rest.”

It was like a death sentence. Molly kept his eyes open for as long as possible, nose to nose with Caleb, who had not closed his eyes either, but the heaviness of sleep eventually fell over Molly’s features and his breaths evened into a soothing rhythm. Caleb waited. He waited first one hour. And then another, and another. Molly was safely asleep, laying close next to him, soft breaths tickling at his cheek, and had been for some time, but still, Caleb remained. Eventually, he extricated himself from the now lax embrace. He gently lifted Molly’s arm off from over his chest and brushed a loose purple curl from his eyes. It took everything within him just to leave the bed, to endure the aching pains that speared at his heart as he watched Molly roll over into the space where Caleb had lain, grasping at nothing until he found a pillow and curled into it, brow furrowing in sleep.

It was truly better that way, that Molly would not wake in the morning confused, clinging to the chest of a man he’d never seen before, or in terror as he looked into the eyes of an unfamiliar man invading his bed.

It was better to leave him. Better to start over from the beginning, with the videos, or back at Caduceus’ shop. Molly would come to him. He always did. It would have to be enough.

* * *

It was nearing on four when Molly rolled over and sat up a bit, restless, breaking from sleep uneasily. Automatically, unthinkingly, his hand shot out across the mattress as if seeking something. There was nothing there. Not surprising; it wasn’t as if he’d been with anyone recently, and certainly not anyone he was interested in taking home with him,  but suddenly, though he couldn’t identify why, Molly felt agonizingly empty and horribly, utterly alone. It hit him hard, like a gut punch, a sense of unbearable loss. Confused, tears streaming silently down his face, Molly hiccoughed a sob. He hurt and he didn’t know why. The combination left him shuddering and he fell forward, crying into the pillow.

No one came to comfort him.

It took an hour, but eventually Molly cried himself to sleep.

In the morning, he didn’t remember anything. He didn’t remember the night prior. He didn’t remember waking desolate and alone.

He didn’t remember anything at all.

In the morning, he saw the note and the phone and pressed play on the videos with curiosity, and the moment he saw the flash of copper hair, it started all over again.  

* * *

Caleb’s mind was whirling. He didn’t know what had possessed him to do it. The silken slide of Molly’s loose pajama pants (patterned with mandalas and elephants) against his bare legs was a decadent and dangerous indulgence. Only the night before he had left like a thief in the night, taking the memory with him, though, curious about the absence of a video to match the previous day, Molly had pestered the details from Caleb, blushing like a rose, the flush spreading across his nose.

When they’d returned to Molly’s home that night, Yasha was back and Caleb had intended to leave Molly at the door, but he’d turned his jewel eyes, gleaming in the streetlights and extended a hand. Caleb did not have the heart to resist.

_“Just lay with me. And stay. And try not to fall asleep. I don’t want to be alone. Please. Please, Caleb?”_

“You’re thinking very hard. Relax. It’s alright. It’s just me.”

Caleb fell out of his recollection. “I am sorry, Mollymauk. I was caught in the memory of your eyes by the lamplight.”

“I love you.” Molly replied, unblinking.

“Ich liebe dich auch.”

“Please don’t fall asleep.”

“I will try not to.”

Molly yawned. Caleb yawned. Their eyes drooped.

“Caleb?” In the haze of near sleep, Molly’s voice had dropped to hardly a whisper.

“Ja, mein Hertz?” Caleb’s words were slurred.

“Can’t fall asleep, Ca’eb…”

“Not sleeping…” His eyes fluttered. “Just, resting my eyes…”

“Ca’eb?” Only the softest hint of sound, now.

“Hmm?”

“Will you marry me, Caleb?

“Ja. I will marry you, Mollymauk…”

Eyes shut. Deep, slow breaths.

Asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Poem is by Wolf Wondratschek, entitled "Liebst du mich?"


	7. Interlude: Caleb Widogast

Interlude: Caleb Widogast

Fate rules us all. So some say. Destiny intertwining, the paths made for us by our parents’ paths, their parents’ paths, going back and back and back forever. Every moment led them to lead their children to lead us to where we are now. Preordained, pathed roads on the trip of life, set like wind-up toys and let go to follow the track put down in front of us.

For centuries, people have been preoccupied with the significance of predestination, predetermination, even precognition. If the future is made for us already, regardless of what we do, less responsibility needs fall on our shoulders. It can’t be just random chance. So some say.

The world is ordered by fate. You can look into the future, see it for what it is, because it is a solid, stone set construction of events that will preordain the lives of our descendants’ and our descendants’ descendants’. You can look into the future but you can’t change it, cannot alter a moment, and cannot travel through it. What is meant to be will be and all that jazz. So some say.

Not Caleb Widogast.

There is another theory of the grand scheme of life, and that is free will. Caleb hasn’t always believed whole-heartedly in free will, believed that he could make choices. Once, long ago, he too ascribed to the vision of the world as a clock set to function by some god or another (not the Archeart, he’s too preoccupied by how people change and grow), ruled by a set future that could never be altered. He was meant for greatness. Meant for power. Meant to serve the Dwendalian Empire.

Then he killed his parents. Setting aside his time spent in the mental institution, Caleb began to reconsider his view of destiny and fate after that terrible, momentous event. Caleb’s sanity hinged on his remorse. Remorseful he was (and remains) of course, but along with that remorse, that regret is an inability to accept the hand that so many would say “Fate” had dealt him. So Caleb latched onto the belief that nothing is set in stone, that time – and fate – could be changed. His magic would be good for nothing else if not to undo the devastation he had wrought.

With such determination of course, came a double edged sword. To believe in the alterability of the world is to believe in the freedom of choice. So, in the split second he took to decide that he would erase his parents’ murder from history, he accepted the burdening knowledge that he was never fated to murder his parents’ but rather that he’d chosen to do so; freely accepting that he alone was responsible for their gruesome death amongst the flames. There would be no easing his conscience by clinging to the interminably spinning wheel of the universal constant, there would only be the chaos of letting go, falling head first into the brimming well of unpredictability, inconsistency and the eternal surprises of a unique world that spun on its own axis, and that of Lady Destiny.

Then came Molly. If he hadn’t already changed his beliefs, Caleb thought that meeting Molly would have. Because it could not have been anything other than a complete accident, a wholly random, unplanned occurrence, that the one person, one flashy, ostentatious Tiefling, whose memory began anew each day would pick him- Caleb! – to fall in love with. Molly’s days were ordered by his expectations; if each day was Jester’s birthday, then they all were the same, with very minor variations, as the day before, because he always awoke with the same plans, the same desires, the same goals.

Caleb had never before imagined what living life in a permanent loop might look like. It was starting to seem like it was a lot like the school of thought he’d dismissed: a life lived in utter predictability when the control was isolated from outside elements that could otherwise alter its state of being. Caleb was that element, the first one in Molly’s life in a long time. Day in and day out the same thing, from the moment they’d met to their thirtieth first meeting. And Caleb began to wonder that, were Molly to be given another avenue to follow, a different path, a new turnout laid, if perhaps he could somehow find his way out of the loop someday? And so was born the tape.

 

And, with the introduction of the tape, Molly began to thrive.

It was a selfish piece of proof to Caleb that he could alter the unalterable, mold the unmalleable, and shape the course of destiny himself.

Besides, Caleb had chosen to kill his parents. And wasn’t it only right that he live with that knowledge? Shoulder the weight of that burden? Vow with his free will to undo what he’d done? It certainly wasn’t fair that Molly, through no fault of his own, be unable to take advantage of the free will Caleb so cleaved to. There was only so much a video diary could do. And so, if fate did not exist and he could change time, just maybe, he could change Molly’s own fate. And then he would be one step closer to changing his parents’ fate too.

After all, he and Molly couldn’t possibly be meant to be! For all the tenderness of budding love that existed between them, the twin declarations of intent dissipated each morning, still to be renewed, again and again in cycle of trust that Caleb knew he did not and never could deserve, in spite of the words Molly spoke. If this was Fate, she certainly had a strange sense of humour.

 


	8. 6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left......

6.

 

“Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going to never was there, and where you are is no good unless you can get away from it”

~ Flannery O' Connor, _Wise Blood_

 

“a flower knows, when its butterfly will return,

and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;

but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,

when I don't know, if you will ever come back.”

~ Sanober Khan

 

 

Something warm was pressed up against his face. Warm and soft and comfortable. Molly snuggled in deeper, tightening his arms around the makeshift pillow that was lifting and falling gently beneath him…

Molly’s eyes flew open and he _shrieked_ , scrambling haphazardly from the bed, taking the sheet with him. The scream woke the person whom he’d been cuddling in his sleep, an unfamiliar redhead, whose bright blue eyes looked around wide and uncertainly as he took in his surrounds in the half second of wakefulness.

“Ach scheiß-“ Was all he got out before he made to sit rather too quickly and Molly panicked, reaching out a hand and _tugging_ at the pull of magic in his blood, and the man, already tangled in the coverlet stumbled and was suddenly blinded, black liquid running over his eyes in thick globules as the red eye on Molly’s neck burst. The man stubbed his toe as he moved blindly and toppled to the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK!” Molly was shouting. He could already hear Yasha’s footsteps in the hall. The man was attempting to stand, trying and failing to clear his vision.

“Molly, Mollymauk, please, bitte, calm down, this is not what-“

As Yasha burst in behind him, he pointed. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Molly cried, shaking, until he realized that Yasha looked neither angry nor incensed that a strange man had been sleeping in Molly’s bed with him. Instead, she just seemed sad. “Oh Molly…”

“What. Is going. ON.” He whirled on the stranger, who had stood and managed to clear his eyes. “Who _are_ you! Why are you in my bed?!”

The stranger looked pitiful too, and ashamed. “I am so sorry, Mollymauk. I should not have fallen asleep. Entschuldigung. My deepest apologies. Yasha, I will go downstairs and clean myself up.”

Something terrible was growing in Molly’s chest, something awful and unimaginable. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream and cry and beat at the door. Sagging, he fell into Yasha, who put her arms around him and held him close, murmuring nothings at him until he calmed.

It was strange, hearing her explain things to him. It was strange, listening to his life recounted as though he’d been there. Eventually, when Yasha felt he was calm enough, she left him be. He watched himself on the videos, and learned his life from himself and he knew that the man he’d woken up with was _his boyfriend_. Someone he watched himself claim to love. And yet, he remembered none of it. There was no denying the facts, no laugh and a revelation that it was all some elaborate joke. Setting the phone down, Molly stood and took in the ruin of his bedroom, looked to the place where Caleb – his boyfriend’s name was Caleb – had lain in the night and sighed. He’d go downstairs, he’d apologize, he’d take Caleb’s hand and feel it and wonder where each finger had traveled on his body the night before, and the night before that.

As Molly made his way down the stairs, voices began to trickle in from the kitchen, and curious, he stopped to listen before making his presence known.

“-think Molly will be okay. He’s watching his videos.” Yasha. That was Yasha’s voice.

“Are you sure? I could go up there! I feel bad that I wasn’t here this morning, but then, things have been going so well and Fjord had shore leave…” And there was Jester. Two unshakable rocks in his storm.

“It is fine, Jester. It was my mistake. I should not have stayed, no matter how he begged me.”

Caleb…

Molly sat down on the steps, back against the wall.

“So, Caleb, I was talking to Nott and she told me that you three are going on an expedition to look at the big cats when you are done writing your current chapter! That is going to be really neat! When are you heading out? She said that you’re in the final editing stages right now, so I imagine it will be soon!”

“Ah, ja, well, I’ve been working on this book a long time, and I’ve wanted to write the ‘in the wild’ chapter, but too many other things got in the way and it never happened. So I set the deadline for after this chapter.”

“Oh.” Molly had to strain to hear Yasha’s characteristically quiet response. “Did you tell Molly about the trip? I’m sure he’d love-“

“I did not tell him. I, ah, I do not think I will be going anymore.”

“Why not, Caleb?” Jester’s bright tones rested subdued. “Nott said you were really looking forward to it!”

“Mollymauk…I have come to…Well, I love him and he needs-he needs me here. So, here I will stay. I have run away a lot in my life, and I have decided that if anything is worth staying for, it is him. I do not want to ruin his progress by leaving on my expedition now. I have been researching different things, promising things and I think-“

“Caleb. Molly will not get his memory back. Healers, both arcane and traditional, have tried. Don’t burn yourself out over this.”

Molly could hardly hold in his sharp, shaking breaths. He yearned to stand and go to Caleb, but, instead he remained where he was.

“There are indicators that-“

“Caleb! Please don’t! You’ll just make yourself even sadder and none of us want that. We’ve tried for years.”

“Ja, aber- it does not matter. I must go to the sanctuary this morning. Will you tell him that I will be by later, if he wants me to be, so that I can pick him up?”

“Sure.”

“Oh! Of Course, Caleb! We’d be happy to!”

Molly closed his eyes as Jester and Yasha saw him out.

It was the last straw when Yasha spoke her last words. “He could go to the moons and back and Molly would never notice he was gone.

That did it. He did not go downstairs. Instead, he removed his pajama pants and hid in the bathroom, locking the door behind him. With a swift turn of the faucet, the rhythmic pounding of the shower spray muted the angry voices in his head and he stepped under the unrelenting water.

A few moments later, he could hear a knock on the door.

“Molly, please. Please come out of there. Molly!”

Yasha’s voice was muffled through the door and the constant pounding beat of the shower, but Molly got the gist of it. He made no move to respond, and knew that, though Yasha could easily break down the door -  she didn’t make use of that gym for nothing – the lock would be enough to deter her for the time being.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

The shower was so hot, it was steaming, a pleasant burning tingle flushing his skin as he stood with his face directly in the spray, camouflaging his bitter, angry tears as he recalled what had happened earlier that day with Caleb.

“It’s not fair.” He whispered brokenly against the spray. “It’s just not fucking fair.” His voice cracked and he pitched forward, arms out to catch himself against the tile and let his head hang.

It wasn’t fucking fair that he should lose so much of himself. That Yasha and Jester and everyone around him should have to pretend for his sake, so careful never to slip up lest- lest this happen. He thought of the way they had looked at him and understood now why they’d acted strange, why his words had jostled their cool.

And Caleb. Gods, Caleb. Good, sweet enduring Caleb. Caleb whom he had just met for the first time for the…he didn’t rightly know how many times over. Caleb who apparently indulged him every day. Who flirted with him every day. Who was putting his career on hold for Molly…He didn’t have to. It was new every day, there was no reason for Caleb to come back. To listen to Molly, to spend time with him, to hold him, to tell him he cared.

What a fucking joke.

How could Caleb want him, when there was no future to be had? Molly was never going to remember him. Fate had seen to that. Molly would never look into Caleb’s eyes on a new morning with recognition, would never start a day with “I love you.” Would never get a chance to even get to that-

Every day.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me. Love at first sight. Every goddamned day. What a fucking joke.”

In that moment, only one thought comforted Molly as much as it spited him. At least in the morning, everything that had happened on this, the worst day in his memory, would be erased and he could start over as if it had never happened at all. But that wouldn’t have been fair. Because, memories or not, Caleb kept showing up. He’d have to end it. He’d do it that day.

Caleb would never see it coming.

He avoided Yasha, breezing past her on the way out of the house, completely ignoring everything she called after him. Though he could not remember it, Molly knew from the videos that he’d been to the sanctuary at least once before. Pulling up his GPS, he scanned the instructions before heading out. The ride was long enough that he had managed to talk himself into and out of his plan more than once before he arrived, settled into his decision.

People he’d never met before were waving to him, calling him by name, saying hello without any prompting with grand smiles on their faces, happy and pleased to see him; apparently, he’d made an impression. It made his resolve sink even further, but he pushed away the doubt, reminding himself of Caleb’s words. Loving a thing meant giving it up, after all. Setting it free. And if Caleb felt obligated to him, then Caleb wasn’t free and keeping him wasn’t love.

It was a hard lesson, but a necessary one. He wouldn’t be the reason Caleb didn’t get a chance to live his dreams. That morning’s traumatic realization that he’d spent nearly two years in limbo had been enough. He would never let anyone else suffer the same way.

Molly saw Osysa before he saw Caleb. She came bounding towards him, a rushing void of sleek black fur and enormous but dangerously silent paws, and knocked him over, nuzzling him. Molly lay on the ground in shock.

“Mollymauk!” The voice was Caleb’s. Suffering silently in abject mortification, Molly only lay there, taking in the affection from the recent mother, trying not to think about how he had attacked Caleb only a scant few hours before, screaming like a madman and the person that his entire family considered to be his boyfriend. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I guess she’s just excited to see me. I must have left a good impression.”

“Oh, ja. Well, I suppose she knows that you and I are connected, and she likes me well enough. But you were so good with the cubs the last time you were here too, and I think they have missed you.”

Osysa stepped back and flopped over on her side, showing her belly for a pat. Molly gave it without concern, looking to her for comfort in the difficult words that were to follow.

“I am surprised to see you here after this morning. I did not think that-“

“Caleb, I’m breaking up with you.” Molly’s gaze burrowed into the ground as far as it would go, away from Caleb, who was silent. The moments between words were eternities.

“I do not understand. Is it because of this morning? I am very sorry, Molly, I did not mean for-“

“No.” He pushed his fingers through Osysa’s thick layers of fur, carding like claws as she purred low and deep and soothing. “It’s not because of that. I…I can’t hold you back, Caleb. You’re done with your chapter. You’ve got to finish the book. I heard you. I was on the steps when you talked about it. The expedition. You have to go. I won’t be the one to keep you here. It’s your dream!”

He heard rather than saw Caleb come to sit on the ground beside him. “Breathe, Mollymauk.” Caleb’s tone was clear and his order precise but not unkind, and it was only then that he realized he’d been nearly shouting.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, Caleb.” Abruptly, Molly stood. “I can’t do this. I can’t let you waste your life over me, over trying to find some solution that doesn’t exist. This is who I am and I can live with that, but what I won’t live with is you giving up everything for me. I refuse to put you through the same thing that happened to me, the same thing that happened to Fjord and Jester and Yasha. I won’t let you live that life. I won’t be the reason that you waste it on a pipe dream while your future is out there waiting for you somewhere.”

Again, Caleb was silent for a long time. Eventually, he too, stood, looking Molly straight in the eye. “You would leave me then. Just videos on your phone. You would tell me to never come back.”

“No, Caleb. You misunderstand. There won’t be any videos. Not ones with you in them, at any rate. I’m cutting you out of my memories. It’ll be like I never saw you to begin with. You have to understand, there is no future with me, Caleb. There never was.”

He turned to go. He expected to feel a hand on his arm or his shoulder, but there was none. Throat tight, Molly took a step and then another and another. Osysa was padding in tight s’s around his legs, apparently feeling the tension.

“Mollymauk. Last night, you asked me to marry you.”

Feet like lead, Molly had to force himself to take the next step and the next step, farther and farther away.

“I said yes.”

He stopped. Turned. Met Caleb’s eyes. “Before I edit the videos, I want you to hear what I said about you. I want you to know. And I won’t forget it. I already filmed it too. So I can’t forget before tomorrow. I’ve made my choice Caleb. I want better for you. I want you to _live_ . These have been the best months I can’t remember.” He laughed bitterly through the words. “I’ve been _living_ because of you. But now it’s your turn Caleb. You need to live too.”

The look on Caleb’s face was agonizing. It took everything within Molly to resist, to remind himself why he’d done it. Why it mattered.

Caleb never once looked away from him. “I will respect your decision.” The words rang hollow, void of emotion, like the frozen tundra Molly had once dreamed of seeing.

“I’m doing it whether you respect my decision or not, but I appreciate the sentiment. I’ll be at the house. Goodbye, Caleb.”

“Goodbye, Mollymauk.”

And for the last time, Molly turned and left.

Molly was ready by the time Caleb knocked on his bedroom door. Looking up from where he was sitting on the duvet, surrounded by pillows, Molly patted the spot beside him on the bed. “Come sit.”

“You are sure.”

“Yes.”

Caleb settled himself down beside Molly on the bed a careful distance away, he looked to the laptop screen, where he saw a freeze frame of Molly’s animated face.

“So far, I’ve just brought the clips up. The ones that need editing. You’ll watch them with me?” The inquiring arch of his brow was a twitching component of heartache, but Caleb nodded his acceptance anyways. “I thought maybe we’d start from the beginning…so you can understand.”

“Whatever you want, Mollymauk. I am here for you as long as you will have me.”

The videos played. One by one by one and as they went, they erased pieces of Molly’s digital memory, cutting here, chopping there, deleting whole video entries, leaving behind only the piecemeal fragments of a life with a Caleb shaped hole cut into it, like the leavings of the last gingerbread man cut out from a slab of Jester’s dough during Winter’s Crest. And slowly, Caleb began to understand.

As the videos progressed, Molly became noticeably more and more excited that before when speaking about Caleb, because he’d spent the day bolstered by the videos and the memories they contained from the previous days. And the more the artificial memories built up, the greater became Molly’s daily level of affection for him. It took several hours, but eventually, they were down to just the last few and then, the last one.

 _“I made Caleb tell me why there wasn’t an entry yesterday. I fell asleep before I could make it. We spent the night together. Making love. It was so much more than what I thought. I meant…he called it that. Making love. We made love. I’m in love with him. He’s in love with me. It’s miraculous. It’s astonishing. I don’t even know how to begin thinking about this. I don’t think I’ve had sex in over two years, and honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever made love. But he told me everything. Every detail. Maybe he’ll tell me again tomorrow. The way he speaks, gods…If this is love, I know I’ve been missing it. I feel like there’s a sunrise under my skin and I just can’t stop listening to this stupid song. Yasha told me that I’ve sung it every day since we met. I think it’s called “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” I had to look it up. Even Jester’s getting sick of it. I think I’m sick_ with _it. Sick with love. Caleb Widogast. I’m in love with Caleb Widogast.”_

The clip ended, Molly’s face frozen on the thumbnail in an expression of deep awe.

“You…” Caleb began and then immediately stopped. There were no words for his feelings. Instead, he hovered his finger over the delete. “Make this choice with me. One last time.”

“One last time.” Molly finger came to hover over Caleb’s own.

Together, they pressed the button and the video winked out of existence forever.

“That’s it. It’s done. I already took care of the rest.”  With a heavy sigh, Molly lifted the laptop from his legs, curling them to the side beneath him as he turned to face Caleb. “What will you do now, Caleb?”

“Does it matter?” Abruptly, Caleb stood from the bed. “You will not remember me in the morning anyways.”

“It does matter, Caleb. You matter. That’s why I had to do this.” The desire to reach out for him was nearly impossible to suppress, but Molly managed it anyways, his fingers twitching at his side and he remained seated.

“I know.” Caleb sounded as weary as he looked. “I know you did. But that doesn’t mean I have to agree. You said so yourself. So I will go now, and I will live my life and you will live yours and I will not be part of it. Goodbye, Mollymauk.”

He was by the door then, hand in the jamb, waiting, but Molly didn’t have it within him to reply in like, instead watching as Caleb gave up on waiting and disappear out the door as though he had never been there to begin with.

The silence was so profound, that it forced Molly to his feet and he sped out the room and down the stairs, just in time to catch Caleb on the sidewalk.

“Caleb, wait!”

Turning in his tracks, Caleb paused, the look in his eyes indiscernible. Molly stopped just shy of hitting him. They were standing chest to chest, Molly’s rising and falling heavily more from emotion than exertion. “One last first kiss.” He whispered and leaned forward into Caleb’s space, capturing him in a kiss.

When the kiss ended, Caleb wouldn’t look him in the eye. There were no words, just an empty space between them before they parted again, truly that time. Molly watched as Caleb got into the Car and left. And when it was no longer in sight, Molly sat down on the sidewalk and cried.

* * *

“Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”

~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 

“People leave traces of themselves where they feel most comfortable, most worthwhile.”

~ Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance

 

For Caleb, life went on. Final revisions on the chapter were underway. A few added segments here and there comprised the better part of Caleb’s time over the next two months as he buried himself in the work, visiting Osysa and the cubs every day at the sanctuary or with Kamaljiori at the Zoo, avoiding Beau and Nott’s sympathy.

At first, Nott had been furious. She’d dug out her miniature compound crossbow – marketed to children, but a perfect fit for her -  and ranted and raved about how she was going to go ‘bazookas’ on the tiefling, whatever that meant. Caleb shut her down fast. He understood Molly’s compulsion. Understood his reasoning. It made sense, after all, that he felt the way he did. It was only a matter of time and Molly was better off without him. Molly would always be better off without him. (It wasn’t as though they were ever really going to get married. It wouldn’t have been feasible.)

In the back of his mind, even as he edited the draft of the chapter, marking pen in hand, Caleb was considering the possibilities. He’d not stopped thinking about his parents and he’d not stopped thinking about Molly, about how to return his memories, how to undo fate, how to change what was already past.  The more he considered it, the more it felt like cheating. And the more it came to feel like cheating, the more it hurt to think about.

Tossing the pen clear across the room in frustration, Caleb leaned heavily back in the chair. The same page of the chapter that had sat in front of him an hour ago was still there, clean and unmarked. Massaging his brow, Caleb, for the first time, considered his plan realistically.

_You killed your parents. You have been searching for a way to unmake this reality. You intended to try this with Mollymauk as well. It is possible. It must be. But…_

Unbidden, the thought popped into his head like a scam ad on a computer.

 _But you don’t_ need _to do it._

The sharp, angry shard within his heart, lodged firm since the moment his parents died, suddenly broke loose at the realization. He didn’t _need_ to undo anything. He wanted it, to be sure, but that would be cheating and he didn’t need it to live, didn’t need it to have a life worth living. Molly had proven that. Molly had never once remained upset for too long, he never let knowing the state of his memory stop him from living. To the contrary, he’d taken every advantage, made the most of what he had, of the time given and allowed himself to genuinely enjoy life. And his last wish was for Caleb to do the same.

Worse than cheating, even considering it felt like a betrayal of everything Molly stood for. Despite the fact that he would never know Caleb had betrayed him, it still stung. It had been years. It was time. Time, finally to let go. No one was looking for him. No one was coming for him and his parents fate had long since been doled out by his own hand. Acceptance was the only path available to him, Molly had certainly seen to that.

Like a madman, Caleb dug through his satchel for his old brick of a laptop, thrusting it open with a quick flick of his wrist, impatiently waiting for it to boot up. As soon as it connected to the internet, he typed in the familiar search. It didn’t matter. He was leaving anyways and no one would be able to track him. They never could. He would disappear for good this time, into the uncomplicated land of nature.

Clicking the link, he watched as the photo loaded as his parents faces stared up at him from the newspaper scan. Tears streaming down his face, he reached out a hand and put his fingers to their faces, tracing the beaming features of Una and Leofric, his mother's red hair gleaming in the sun and his fathers kind eyes a blanket of soft empathy that he still wasn’t sure he deserved.

_“You need to live too.”_

Molly’s words haunted him. Swallowing a sob, Caleb took one last long glance at the photograph before closing the browser. He plugged in his external hard drive, backed up his files and shut down the computer.

It was going to be hard. But then, there was very little worthwhile doing that _wasn’t_ hard.

“I will do this for you, Molly. Liebling. Mein Hertz,” he said to the empty study. “I will live, because you asked me too. You were right all along. There is no healing in the past. The only place to go is forward. I unchain myself today. I will stop looking. I will-stop trying to-” Throat constricting, Caleb choked his way past the emotion. “I will _live._ ”

A new conviction in his voice, Caleb stood and began packing his things before looking around the room one last time.

“Goodbye.”

It was a farewell to many things. His life in Nicodranas, his obsession with the past, and Molly all. Bittersweet but necessary, he pulled the orbs of light magic from their resting places in all his light fixtures, returning them to his hand where they dissipated in waves of arcane energy and closed the door behind him.

 

Exactly two weeks later, Caleb was ready to leave on the expedition. All that remained was to inform Beau and Nott. Breakfast was an unusually quiet affair. While both of his friends had been tip-toeing around him since the breakup, it was clear that they had also seen change brewing it’s storm on the horizon.

“Good morning, Cay-cay.” Nott patted his hand as she hopped off the stool towards the fridge. “Do you want anything? I’ve got some of that maracujasaft you like so much, just picked it up the other day.”

“You do not need to appease me, schatz. I have something to tell you.”

Jug of juice already held between both her tiny hands, Nott looked at Caleb hard, eyebrows drawing together as she did. “You’re leaving on the expedition. Beau and I had a bet going that you wouldn’t say anything. I had faith in you.” She smiled a soft, though toothy smile. “Now Beau owes me five new buttons and her laser pointer.”

“You have too much faith in me, I think. But I am glad you will get your buttons. But will Beau give up the laser pointer?” He queried fondly and Nott’s smile grew mischievous.

“She’d better.” Nott busied herself about getting him a glass, mage-handing it down from the cupboards. “Anyways, we’re both already packed. I told Beau that didn’t make sense, you know, to bet against you and then pack anyways, but she told me she’d just follow you anyways, and well, I would have too, Caleb, you know that, right?”

He swallowed. “Ja. I know that.”

“Well good. Because we’re you’re family and we’re not going anywhere.”

In place of words, he simply took the glass from Nott and placed a free hand on her slender shoulder. Often, Caleb forgot just how small his friend was, for all the largeness of her heart. “You are a very good family to me. I am grateful. I will not lie, I thought about leaving without saying anything, but I decided against it. I have…I have decided that it is time to make some changes in my life. After Mollymauk…” He paused, and noticed that Nott was watching him attentively, though she acted as though she was pouring a glass of her own, seemingly unconcerned. “I am done living in the past. There are some things that I need to tell you. You and Beau both. And then, if you still wish to go with me, you will be more than welcome.”

“I’m sure that whatever you have to say, we’ll both still be beside you when you leave.” The just of her chin was almost stern.

“We shall see, Schatzi.”

“No. We’ll be there. And if we’re not, it’s because we’re dead. Now, I’m going to message Beau and you’re going to tell us whatever it is you have to say, and we’re going to put this silly notion of us leaving out of your head and then, before you leave, we’re going to say goodbye to Yasha and Fjord and Jester, because Beau will be fucking insufferable if we leave without saying goodbye to her-“ Nott raised two fingers, air quoting her next words. “- ‘not-girlfriend’.”

Caleb bit his lip. “I have not seen them since Molly and I-“

“They want to see you. We already told them we’d probably be leaving. Beau is bringing her car. Unlike you, she believes in at least getting some use out of civilization and, as your intern, has agreed to run all the menial into town jobs and may occasionally like to take a vacation, you know?” The hint was heavily laced into Nott’s tone.

“Alright, I understand. You may call her now. Göttern.”

“Act like the adult you are and not the child I wish you were, please.” Nott directly imperiously before turning with her copper wire to the corner that Beau’s apartment was in. “Beau. Caleb’s got some shit to tell us. Get up here. Youcanreplytothismessage.”

In a flash, their front door was banging open and Beau kicked it with her foot and shouldered her way through the backswing. “Sup. You finally tellin’ us that you’re leaving?” Caleb opened his mouth, but Beau kept speaking, heedless of his attempt to cut in. “Guess I owe you some fuckin’ buttons.”

“And the laser pointer.” Nott pointed a rigid finger at her threateningly. “I was right and don’t you forget it.”

“Yeah, yeah, here you go.” Beau stuck her hand in the pocket of her loose sweatpants and stuffed a handful of objects into Notts outstretched grabby hands.

“Oooo,” she breathed out in a high pitched squeak. “Shiny…” she muttered, before jumping and falling back with an “eep!” when she shined the laser pointer directly into her eye. “I can’t see! Caaay-leb!”

Caleb hung his head, catching his face in his palm while Beau broke into hysterics. Once Nott was calmed down and Caleb managed to coerce her into putting her newest acquisitions away, they settled in around the table, sipping the juice Nott had poured.

“Hey, so, uh, this will be easier with a little of your fire-water, Schatzi.”

Wide eyed, Nott removed her flask from the side holster and passed it to Caleb with a degree of reverence. Beau’s expression grew cloudy.

“Caleb-“

“I ask that you let me speak and then you may comment. That is all. I have told this story precisely once before. To Mollymauk.” He poured a generous helping of alcohol into each of the juice glasses before returning the never ending flask to Nott. “And now, I will tell you everything. And then, we will see what we will see.”

Without any further interruptions, Caleb told his story for the second time, avoiding their eyes as he explained in detail the circumstances that made him who he was. When he was done, Nott slipped off of her stool and climbed up into his lap, throwing her arms around his neck tightly.

“I love you, Caleb. Always,” she whispered in his ear, her tears dampening his hair. Caleb fought off the desire to push her away, allowing her to continue to cling. Beau cleared her throat, but Caleb kept his gaze trained on the empty wall in front of him.

“Look man. You were manipulated. It’s fucked up – like _seriously_ fucked up -  but you were manipulated. And now you know better and you’re doing good things and you’re not that person that this fuckin’ _asshole_ was trying to turn you into. So, whatever. Fuck it, man. Let’s go live in the middle of nowhere and study big cats.”

“I don’t agree with you, but I will not stop you. And I promise,” he added, turning to Beau finally, “that we will not leave before saying goodbye to your girlfriend.”

Beau spluttered, a bit of juice spraying from one nostril and started to cough harshly.

Caleb just arched a brow superciliously. “Is that not what you wanted, Beauregard? Nott made a particular point of getting me to agree to-“

Beau lunged for Nott, even where she stood in Caleb’s lap, but she dodged out of the way. Beau landed over Caleb, and the rickety old chair collapsed under their combined weight, the splintering wood sticking up all around them like some mockery of a spike pit.

“C’mere you little rat! You snitched! You snitched!”

“Did not! You chatted her up at the beach party _months_ ago! Everyone knew! Everyone!”

“ ‘m gonna-“

Caleb could only lay prone as Beau scrambled to her feet after Nott, running around the apartment like only madwomen could do. As far as things could have gone, this was the least of Caleb’s imaginings by far.

Only another two weeks passed as they put things in order for their departure. In all that time, no one showed up on their doorstep looking for him, or at the zoo or sanctuary asking too many questions. After all the years he’d spent afraid, it seemed that Ikithon and his followers had either forgotten him or given up looking. It didn’t matter. Caleb was more than ready to live freely. He thought of the wild cats, from the smallest sand cats to the largest of the mighty beasts that awaited him on the expedition, roaming the countryside contentedly and longed to experience their ease.

It wasn’t too long in coming.

On the day that they were packing their vehicles, Jester and Yasha pulled up in the larger woman’s wrangler. Jester popped her head up out of the sunroof happily. “Hello Caleb! Hello Nott! Hello Beau!” She waved before dropping back down and hopping over the half door, a box in her arms. Yasha descended, one thick boot dropping to the cement at a time. Sticking her hands in her pockets, she trailed Jester over to greet them.

“Uh, hey, hi, um-“ Beau was mumbling in Yasha’s direction, who looked back wide eyed and blushed a little in response.

“Hallo, have you come to see us off then?” Caleb asked, looking from one to the other. Jester was rolling on the balls of her feet, rocking back and forth.

She held out the box, pushing it into Caleb’s arms. “That’s for you,” she said, biting her lip. “I wanted to be sure that you had them, you know, before you leave. Because they should be with you, you know, since Molly doesn’t know you anymore…”

Caleb looked down. The top of the cardboard box was open. Though there were many things inside, the item on top of the pile was what he noticed first. “A CD?”

“For the car. It’s that one with the song on it that Molly always sang when he met you. After you left that day, he gave it to me. He told me he didn’t want to listen to it anymore.” Jester looked about ready to cry, so Caleb moved it aside and looked at the rest of the contents.

“These are all-?”

“Yes.” Yasha nodded solemnly. “We wanted them to go to you. It’s your choice what to do with it all.”

In awe, Caleb set the box down on the hood of the Car. The first article was a scarf, beautifully embroidered in varying shades of brown and orange, with a bright blue underside lining. “They’re my colours.”

“Yes. They are.”

Each beautifully crafted piece had something of Caleb in them. A vest that matched his skin-tone. A blouse the colour of his eyes, with a scattering of tiny golden star-dust beads painstakingly sewn into the fabric by hand. A table runner with a patchwork Frumpkin on it…

Carefully unemotional, Caleb removed the CD from the box, stuffing it into his pocket before handing the box back to Jester. “I cannot. Thank you, but I cannot.”

“We just thought that-“ Jester began, but Yasha cut her off.

“How have you been, Caleb?” It was the most awkward transition, leaving all of them silent. Beau kicked a rock on the asphalt, failing to assume a level of inconspicuousness.

“I am fine. I am looking forward to the expedition, now that I have finished this chapter on captive big cats. I am looking forward to working with the wild ones.” Gathering the courage, he added. “How is Molly? I-I saw you all at the zoo…”

“He’s, um, living at the institute now. He went to see Cleric Pike and they came up with something for him.” Yasha couldn’t meet Caleb’s eyes.

“Oh, wow! When’d that happen?” Nott asked, seeing that Caleb was unable to speak. He’d gone very still, and very quiet.

“About three weeks ago.” Jester sniffed. “He said he didn’t want to be a burden on us anymore!” Tears streamed down her cheeks and Yasha, usually so stoic, was trembling. When Jester recovered herself, she added. “Fjord is visiting him today. That’s why he’s not here too.”

Yasha laid a strong hand on Jester’s shoulder. “We tried to talk him out of it, but it didn’t work. He wouldn’t listen. But he’s…he’s happy. He’s teaching sewing classes to the others who live there. It makes him feel needed, he said.” She smiled a little. “He’s started to sing again, you know.”

Still, Caleb did not speak. Nott cleared her throat. “Well that’s nice. Singing, I mean. And the teaching. He’s very good.”

The awkward silence continued, before Jester, unable to contain herself, threw her arms around Caleb, hitching a few sobs before pulling back. “Thank you for everything you did, Caleb.”

“I did not do anything. It is Molly who is magic.”

They were the first words he’d spoken in several minutes but they rasped as though it had been days. He and Yasha exchanged a set of meaningful glances, though hers was more difficult to parse apart, and that was that.

“Well, we’ll let you say goodbye to Yasha then, Beau,” Nott nudged their friend in the shin and tugged Caleb off by the arm of his coat towards the car.

He sat down and pulled the door shut behind him, blocking out what he imagined would devolve into Yasha and Beau’s impromptu make-out session (though he did not look to ascertain if that was an accurate assessment or not). He started the engine after two tries and then stuck his hand into his pocket to touch the jewel case of the CD.

He removed it as if in a daze, opened the case. With a click the CD popped out and he slotted it into the player mechanically before selected the track he wanted.

 

_The first time ever I saw your face_

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes_

 

Silently, Caleb allowed the last of his pent up regrets to flow from him, the tears rolling slowly down his face, dripping off his chin.

 

_And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark and the endless skies_

 

Molly’s rakish half smile, ruby eyes sparkling in the sunlight as they had on the first day that Molly had approached him, a glowing lavender vision.

 

_The first time ever I kissed your mouth_

_I felt the earth move in my hand_

 

Molly’s taloned thumb swiping over Caleb’s lips in fond admiration. All the places and ways that they’d kissed for the first time from Molly’s perspective.

_Like the trembling heart of a captive bird_

_That was there at my command my love_

 

The first time Molly said “I love you.”

 

_And the first time ever I lay with you_

_I felt your heart so close to mine_

 

The press of Molly’s body against his, soft and grasping, clutching at his shoulders, keening as they moved together in bliss.

 

_And I knew our joy would fill the earth_

_And last till the end of time my love_

 

Molly telling him goodbye.

 

_The first time ever I saw your face_

 

Molly singing softly at the sewing machine when he didn’t know Caleb was there.

Molly singing _that_ song.

 

_Your face, your face._

 

Caleb blinked, then blinked again. The tears stopped abruptly. Molly was _singing_ again. Yasha had said Molly was _singing_ again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw Nott headed towards his car from where she’d been busy packing Beau’s, but he didn’t wait for her, slipping the gear into the drive and mashing down the pedal like a madman.

Molly was _singing_ again.

He remembered.

 

In record time, Caleb made it to the Institute, rushing to park the Car and get inside as fast as he could. He breezed past the two that had forgotten that Molly hadn’t any short term memory processing ability and up the stairs to the center which he’d passed by on his first trip with Molly those many months ago. Any semblance of his control was lost as he flung open the door to see many patients working on crafts. Painting, working pottery wheels, drawing and…

“What am I doing again?”

“You’re sewing a skirt, Thed. It’s looking great! Those are some interesting colour choices though.”

“Oh, huh. Wow, I suck. That’s not a straight line.”

“It’s okay. You’ll figure it out. Hand stitching is rough.”

It was Molly’s voice. Molly’s lilting unmistakable hash of an accent. For half a minute, Caleb wondered where Fjord was, but the thought dissipated almost instantaneously.  There, emerging from behind the support pillar, was Mollymauk himself. He wore a deep teal kimono top that Caleb had never seen before, with lovingly stitched sun and moon designs spiraling across the fabric. That Molly had made it himself, Caleb had no doubts.

“Excuse me,” he said, calling Molly’s attention. When he turned, it seemed to take forever. The swish of his maroon gauchos looked elegant and his tail flicked alertly.

“Yes?” His expression was unreadable, but Caleb found himself drowning in it all the same. The ache in his chest was worse than it had ever been before.

“You are Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“I am.”

“Do you…” Caleb hesitated. “Do you know who I am?”

The corner of Molly’s mouth twitched. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“Ah. Of course.” His heart was plummeting. How had he allowed himself to hope, to dream, to believe-

“What’s your name?”

“Ah, Caleb. Widogast. Caleb Widogast.”

Molly seemed to consider him closely. “Hm. Caleb.” Whatever was happening in his mind, the dilemma seemed to resolve itself. “I want to show you something. Would you come with me, please?”

Caleb only nodded. The other patients were watching them, whispering, but Molly led him off to a separate room. Molly held the door for him, passing him inside. “I’m still working on the backing, you see, but the top just wouldn’t leave me alone. That’s what you call the front facing part of a quilt. I don’t know if you knew that. Sorry, I’ll just…” Molly trailed off awkwardly, but Caleb didn’t notice.

Caleb was too busy looking at the quilt hanging on the wall. The edges were unfinished, which made sense, since Molly indicated that there was no back to it yet, and it was nowhere near a full sized piece. It was maybe four feet in length and two wide. Deceptive at first, it seemed to depict an outdoor scene, curling vines and pale lavender blossoms comprising the boarders, but then the bookshelves registered, the dark wood like tree trunks, and the shaft of pale yellow sunlight drew his eye to the figure front and center. It wasn’t quite photoreal, thought it was close. Nearly abstract as far as colour and shape went, it looked almost like some modern painting the way he captured the dappled and suffused light of _The Wicked Green_ as it surrounded the figure, who was born of deep, burnt umbers in the most shadowed of parts, and soft, warm sandy browns, to the most vibrant of rusted oranges and fallen leaves, and the two spots of clear, cool blue.

“This is my workroom.” Molly said eventually, picking up the hanging thread of his earlier monologue, but even then it dangled, went lax in a pregnant pause. “Caleb, I don’t know who you are. But I know you. I dream of you. I’m _always_ dreaming of you. Every night. And I don’t know _why_. Do you? Can…can you tell me?”

Caleb didn’t respond.

“I feel an emptiness in me. I ache. I don’t understand it.”

It was difficult to swallow. Caleb wet his lips, tongue darting out across them, as if that would make it easier to speak. “In Zemni, we call this _sehnsucht._ It is not accurately translatable into just one word of Common. It is a longing for something that you cannot identify. A longing so intense that it hurts.”

“Yes. Yes, that’s it. That’s what I feel.”

Caleb wished he could close his eyes, but he couldn’t tear them away from the quilted scene, from the rough detail of the book in his hands, or the hidden Bengal cat resting on the bookshelf. “Once, once your videos told you all about me. Once. But not anymore.”

In response, there was a light exhale, agonizingly slow. “Well…that makes a lot more sense. Thought I was having visions or something.” The laugh that followed was hollow and false.

“You told me, that you wanted me to live. And that I was not able to do that with you. You thought you were holding me back. That I could not be fulfilled. Or happy.” Only then did Caleb turn. “You were mistaken. I can live, with or without you. But happy? Fulfilled?” He shook his head. “You helped me to become those things. Without you, they are pale and thin. I want to have them with you. By your side. I want to live _with_ you, be happy _with_ you, be fulfilled _with_ you, not without you.” He gingerly reached for one of Molly’s hands, Molly who was shaking, trembling, blinking rapidly.

“You say that I am in your dreams. Mollymauk, you _are_ my dream.”

Molly’s grip on his hand tightened. “Caleb…It’s so nice…to meet you.”

“Ja, Molly, it is nice to meet you, too.”

A smile broke across Molly’s face. He moved like lightning, pulling Caleb towards him, flinging his arms around Caleb’s neck, and kissed him with abandon. Caleb soul sang as he held Molly close kissed him back with matching enthusiasm, knowing that, when he pulled away, Molly’s hand would still be reaching for his.

If they were going anywhere, it would be together.

 

“in a world

full of

temporary things

you are

a perpetual

feeling.”

~ Sanober Khan

 


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! We've come to the end!  
> Thank you to everyone who read, kudos'd reviewed.  
> Thank you again to Sarah, my phenomenal beta. Without you, I would not have been able to finish this.  
> Stay tuned for an official playlist to go with this story!  
> That will be posted as another chapter but it's not really so don't freak out please.  
>  
> 
> Also, please be on the lookout for my next Widomauk fic, a winter tale inspired by two very different sources, the Rankin Bass '79 Jack Frost and the Frank Schatzing book, Tod und Teufel, aka Death and the Devil, with a healthy dose of original plot and Caleb backstory themes...
> 
> Description in end notes.

Epilogue:

“tell me

of something fiercer

than the love with which

i gaze upon you

 

of something softer

than the tenderness

with which i hold you.”

 

~ Sanober Khan

 

“Your memory feels like home to me.

So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds its way back to you.”

~ Ranata Suzuki

 

Rubbing his eyes, Molly awoke to the bleary haze of filtered sunlight through the…curtains? He sat up, allowing the sheet to slide off his chest, pooling around his waist. The surroundings were completely unfamiliar.

“How in the fuck?” His voice was the only thing in the room that Molly recognized. He looked around at the room, the light lavender curtains, the books piled on the side table, the queen-sized bed on which he was sequestered to one side. The other pillow had an indent, but there was no warmth reminiscent of another body. He didn’t remember going home with anyone…

Molly turned to the other side table. A phone sat there surrounded with a vibrantly magenta case. It looked like it could be his phone, colour considering, but his phone had just busted the day before. Just then, the alarm buzzed lightly. Reaching out, tentatively, Molly picked it up. The alarm was labeled and he frowned as he read it.

“Watch the video. What video?”

He slid the alarm off and swiped the lock, which opened without a keycode. Endlessly curious, Molly opened the gallery. A folder labeled “Watch Me First” opened to a video file labeled simply “Good Morning Molly”.

Slightly perturbed, Molly pressed the video, pressed play, and his whole life enfolded before him.

His whole life in the form of newspaper clippings of an ill-fated accident, of medical reports detailing brain injuries and of a man with bright copper hair, holding his wrist as they were handfasted, Jester presiding, before the Archeart and the Moonweaver and the Traveler and all of Molly’s friends and family.

Tears streamed lightly down his face as he watched himself vow his life and love and dedication to the man named Caleb, kiss Caleb, smile widely at Caleb, his heart shining in his eyes.

And finally, there was a clip of himself, obviously holding the camera, laying atop the bed, Caleb beside him. “Hi! I know it’s a lot to take in. I just found out this morning myself.” He watched himself say. It was eerie, completely surreal to watch himself say something he couldn’t remember doing. “But it’s going to be okay. This is Caleb, right here. My husband! He tells me that it’s better if he’s not with me when I wake up in the morning. That’s happened. It doesn’t always go so well. But when you’re ready, he’s probably in the kitchen, waiting for you.”

“Every morning, dear one.” The man called Caleb said, nuzzling into his neck.

The corresponding skin on Molly began to tingle and he pressed a hand there absently.

“Now, get dressed and head out. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t let a little thing like your piss poor memory stop you.”

And he watched his own face twist into his favourite half grin and watched his own mischievous eyes sparkle, he decided to take his own advice, and live.

There was a royal purple silken robe waiting for him on the chair and he took it, sliding it on easily before exiting the bedroom. He followed his nose through the unfamiliar layout to the kitchen where he saw the same shock of red hair from behind and watched as Caleb moved about, making crêpes.

“Good morning,” he said, softly, uncertainly. Caleb turned to him, and it was so much more than the video, more vivid, more extraordinary, more everything. It was like sunlight breaking through the clouds, and in that moment, Mollymauk understood why he’d chosen this life.

“Ah. Good morning, Molly. Did you watch your video?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Where are we?”

“We are in our home. Yasha and Beauregard are still asleep. So is Nott.”

Molly drew aside the curtain and looked outside to see a fantastic view of an icy landscape… “Are we in the North? The Frozen Depths?”

“Ja. I am studying the big cats here. They are very fascinating. It is a little too cold here for all of us, I think, but the cats are worth it.”

Molly could only gape in amazement at the gorgeous view. Slow whorls of snow drifted their way past the window on the tundra.

“Any other questions, mein Hertz?”

Molly turned back to Caleb, to the warmth of the stove and the warmth of his person. “Just one.”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Caleb smiled at him fondly and the look was almost alien, considering the circumstances. He didn’t say anything as he offloaded the last crêpe onto the plate, set down the spatula and wiped his hands on the dishtowel. He didn’t say anything as he walked over to Mollymauk, grasping his hands and lifting them up between them from where they hung at his sides.

“Yes, Molly. The answer is and always will be yes.”

It felt right pressing his lips to Caleb, like he’d been doing it for years. When they parted, Molly laughed as the realization hit him that it very well may have been years. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Caleb knew him, for his hands settled at Molly’s waist and then slid back, encircling him and drawing him nearer until their foreheads rested together, just the way Molly liked it. And wasn’t that just the thing? Maybe it was new for Molly, but not for Caleb. And Caleb was here, making him crêpes, smiling at him, kissing him, loving him, despite knowing that Molly could not recall loving him back and never would.

If anything were to make a stranger worth his love, that was certainly it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this story, here's where I beg you to go read my first widomauk long fic " All That's Ahead and Behind" https://archiveofourown.org/works/15728781?view_full_work=true
> 
> And there is a New story in the works!
> 
> New Story Announcement (Title in works) The Winter-fic: 
> 
> In a world where magic is outlawed for all but the ruling class nobility, wizard Caleb Widogast is a homeless beggar, living on the streets of Zemni’s capital city of Rexxentrum. Caleb has only his best and most devoted friend, a sly goblin thief named Nott, and his secret past. 
> 
> Far above, on the immaterial plane, lives Lucien, elsewise known as the Nonagon, a Frost Sprite and an underling of the Goddesses of Autumn and Winter, his time shared between The Moonweaver and The Raven Queen as the seasons change. When Lucien happens upon Caleb one day, freezing in the cold, he is aghast that the beauty he creates can cause so much suffering. Desperate to end that suffering and becoming more deeply enamored each passing day, Lucien makes a decision that will change both their lives forever. 
> 
> After begging his goddesses to be allowed to visit the mortal plane in an attempt to secure the love of Caleb, Lucien makes a bargain to give up his magic, his selfhood and his immortality. Now mortal, with gaping holes in his memory, and calling himself 'Mollymauk', he begins a burgeoning alliance with Caleb, only to find himself embroiled in the worst of humanity’s proclivities - hatred, war, jealousy, violence, and murder, all of which come to center around Caleb himself. 
> 
> As spring fast approaches - the deadline by which Molly is supposed to have secured Caleb’s love, lest lose him forever - and the situation on the mortal plane only grows worse, Molly begins to wonder if he will live long enough to even get called home, much less get Caleb to return his love.


	10. Bonus: OST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs from The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've kept forgetting to put this up! But here it is! Enjoy this in lieu of an Update for Cold Are All Thy Lights, which is on hold until after I've finished grading finals.

Bonus: Songs for The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

[The First Time The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VqW-eO3jTVU) by Roberta Flack

[At Last ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5dpYDTEMRU)by Etta James

[Sunday Kind of Love ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjiBj014t7g)by Etta James

[Can’t Take My Eyes Off You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpUnKtpSDgs) by The Cary Brothers

[Every Other Freckle ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTN5Wcb8yMg)by alt-J

[I Burn For You ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKYOP5NbbNM)by David Foster

[Who Gon Stop Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzExWz7KP5M) by Kanye West and Jay Z Feat. Flux Pavilion, The Great Gatsby Jazz Trumpet Version (Linked version not the version listened to, but close)

[I’ll Be Around ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOgfQoEUNHI)by the Spinners

[In the Embers ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yf6LeX6eABU)by Sleeping At Last


End file.
